Every Kind of Silence
by aslytherinindistrict12
Summary: Another push. Another shove. Another crash. Blaine picks himself up off the floor, wincing as a new bruise blossoms on his skin. McKinley has changed, becoming a hell on earth, one that Kurt doesn't even know exists. And soon, everyone will be caught in the crossfire.
1. Prologue

**A little introduction to set the stage…. **

Another shove.

Another crash.

Another wince.

Another laugh.

Another sigh.

Blaine doesn't move. He just leans back against the lockers and watches his tormentors hi-five one another and laugh down the hall from his place on the floor. Once they disappear, Blaine closes his eyes for a fleeting second. It _hurts_. The silence stretches on and on, a type of silence that seems to enjoy being unbroken.

For Blaine, silence is good.

Silence means safe.

Silence means peace.

Silence is a time to focus on the pain which blossoms from his shoulder and back. And wherever else hurts. Today it's his chest. Again. _That's going to bruise,_ Blaine thinks resignedly. God he hates every minute of this.

He misses Kurt.

This school year began worse enough without his boyfriend. But then a few days into the new school term, the slushy facials had restarted. And the locker shoving. And the taunting.

The bad economy had driven packs of private school boys away from their high tuition Christian college preparatory palaces and into public high schools all over the state. And McKinley was no different.

People fought back at the beginning. The Glee club, the library dwellers, the math geeks. The "nerds". Blaine gave whoever touched him a black eye or a fight they didn't expect. But soon his frequent visits to Principal Figgins' office on grounds of fighting resulted in the establishment of a heavy ultimatum: If Blaine is part of one more fight, he will be suspended. Protests and explanations fell on deaf, oblivious ears, and Blaine's greatest weapon, his ability to fight, a weapon he had honed and practiced for years so he would never again have to be in this exact situation, was taken from him by the very people that were supposed to protect him.

McKinley High School transformed. Those originally freed slunk away and locked themselves back in their little closets. The hallways quieted. Even the school seemed to lack color. The teachers noticed and tried to help and miraculously the majority of the noticeable physical bullying during classes ceased. Maybe an "accidental" shove. Maybe a foot stuck out that sent somebody clattering to the floor, papers flying about with no one ready to help. Maybe a slushy facial every so often and a hissed slur. But it was better than nothing. Certainly better than the beginning of the year.

Not for Blaine though.

With an unsatisfactory home life, to put it gently, he was forced to study in the library after classes to focus. After school, alone, and the middle of football season. So when the librarian kicked Blaine out and locked up, hurrying down the hall to go home, Blaine would shove his books into his bag and head out. Quickly.

But every time he would be intercepted by the freshly showered football players who would stay a little extra to make sure they caught him before he went home. Every time he was either shoved harshly against the lockers, or had his breath whoosh out of his battered chest when a stray foot sent him crashing to the cold floor. And every time he would bite his lip and clench his fists. And every time he would just pick himself up with a sigh and drive home.

Every night he would pull off his shirt and inspect the new bruise. And every night he would crawl into bed with a wince, because _it hurt. _ And every damn night Blaine would miss Kurt, but be thankful that Kurt had escaped this hell.

A hell Kurt doesn't even know exists.

**I'm back! Thanks everyone and a special thank you to my fabulous and brilliant beta Ishy/ayearafterklaineoccurred (check out her tumblr at darrentweededafan). My tumblr is aslytherinindistrict12 if you want to drop by and talk to me! **

**Hope you stick with it, thanks for reading, and please review! **


	2. The Question of Bowties

**Thanks for the awesome response everybody! Here's your next chapter! **

**Warning****: Contains some explicit language, homophobic slurs and subtext, as well as vocal and minor physical abuse. If that content bothers you, please skip the first part of the chapter. **

**I don't own Glee. If I did, there would be a hell of a lot more Klaine. **

_**-Thanksgiving holiday, two months later-**_

The door opens with a click and Blaine steps inside the house gently, replacing the grin with a calm mask of indifference.

"I'm home," he calls out into the room as he makes his way through the kitchen.

He pauses.

Glass litters the floor.

Hesitantly he continues into the living room. His mother's favorite vase lies in shattered shards, glinting dully in the lamplight.

"You're early."

Blaine freezes as he hears his father's voice from the couch. "Yeah, I didn't have a lot of homework," he says flatly.

His father just grunts. Blaine's hazel eyes carefully flit about the room. The drawn curtains. The one lamp illuminating the colorless scene in dull light. The almost-empty bottle held in his father's grip. The remnants of another strewn across the carpet, the dark glass mingling with the pieces of clear, shining crystal. The putrid scent of alcohol polluting the air.

Blaine's nose crinkles and he picks his way across the room to the staircase, the glass tinkling softly under his step. At the foot of the stairs, he pauses and clears his throat. He has to ask. "Where's Mom?" He already knows the answer.

"Spending the night with her sister. But… But she'll be back," Mr. Anderson slurs."She always comes back."

"I don't know why," Blaine mutters under his breath, just a sliver of speech in the quiet room. And his father is belching too loudly to notice.

Blaine trudges up the stairs and rushes into his room, closing the door softly behind him. He pulls on some clean clothes and flings his backpack into a corner. Quickly, he washes his face and reapplies the gel on his hair. He has to look perfect.

After spraying on some cologne, he pauses in front of the dresser. Hesitantly, he slides open a drawer he hasn't opened in weeks. Almost reverently, he slips out a small plaid bow tie. It would look so good with his outfit, wouldn't it? He holds it up to his collar, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

_Practice the smile. _

_No, that's pathetic. Try again. _

_You're going to make Kurt cry. Try again. _

_Almost. _

_Not quite. _

_There it is. Perfect. _

_So you know how to smile. That's good. _

Blaine's hand hesitantly lingers at his collar but he closes his eyes and puts the bowtie back, closing the drawer softly.

Buttoning up his jacket he slips downstairs and ties on his shoes.

"And where are you going?"

Blaine exhales.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" His father thunders. "YOU RUNNING AWAY TOO BOY?"

"No," Blaine says wearily."I'm going to see Kurt."

"Oh your fairy boyfriend is back is he? So he didn't forget about you."

Blaine stands and turns his back on his father. "I'll be home late. Try and sober up," he clips sharply.

"Don't you turn your back on me."

Heavy hands spin him and throw him harshly against a wall. Blaine winces as his father's fingers dig into his bruised chest. "This is your fault. If you were normal this wouldn't be happening. _Fag." _Mr. Anderson spits, and Blaine's eyes water from his rancid breath.

His father releases him and Blaine lets the wall support his weight as his knees weaken.

"This wouldn't be happening…" Mr. Anderson slurs, the alcohol blurring his words together as he collapses back onto the chair, taking another swig from the dark bottle. "This wouldn't be happening if you weren't you." He takes another swig and throws the empty bottle on the floor. It cracks, spider webs appearing on the glass. "Just go! What are you waiting for fag? GO! Go and get fucked by that fairy of yours. And stay there. We-we don't want you here… No one wants you."

Blaine stumbles outside the door and into his car, his father's profanities ringing in his ears as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the road. He grips the steering wheel tightly.

_It's nothing new. He just drunk. _

_You're going to see Kurt. Finally._

_Cheer up. _

"_Fag."_

_No. Don't do this to yourself. He's not worth it. _

"_We don't want you here."_

"_No one wants you." _

Blaine pulls over on the side of the road, the cars flashing past sending streams of light past his window. His chest throbs. He stares blankly into the dark road ahead. And as the rain begins its soft pitter patter against the windshield, Blaine buries his head in his arms.

And he cries.

"Dad!"

"Yes Kurt?"

"Blaine's on his way here. Just thought I'd let you know."

Burt laughs, "Already? But you were just at the airport an hour ago! You'd better go unpack then. And Carole, can you set the table for one more?"

"Of course,"Carole replies smiling. It's nice to finally have her family all together again.

Kurt hurriedly unpacks, pulling out some bowties he bought Blaine from New York and gets into some fresh clothes. Rain patters against the windowpane and increases until Kurt can hear it pouring outside, thunder growling in the distance. His heart constricts as he imagines Blaine on the slippery road. As he waits, he opens the box of bowties, admiring the softness and shine of the fabric and the vibrant colors. Blaine is going to love them. He imagines his boyfriend's soft smile and the way his widening gold eyes will crinkle at the corners. Imagines how he'll eagerly rush toward the mirror and hold them up to his collar, face breaking into large, bright grin that will have Kurt's heart warm and fluttering in his chest.

When the door bell finally rings, Kurt sighs in relief. Excited to see his boyfriend again, he sprints up the stairs, taking two at a time.

Burt laughs again at his son's enthusiasm and watches amusedly as he sees him almost trip over his own feet running to the door, throwing it open when he reaches it.

Blaine stands outside with a smile, eyes widening in joy as he sees his boyfriend for the first time in months. Kurt pulls him inside and out of the rain, watching as the other boy shakes the rain drops from his dark curls. They splatter against the floor, Blaine making little downpour of his own. After a second of studying his boyfriend, Blaine is rushing to Kurt, burying himself in his arms. Kurt holds him close, breathing in the smell of the clean autumn rain and Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. After a long moment, he mutters into Blaine's damp curls, throat thick, "I've missed you."

"Not as much as I've miss you." Blaine mutters quietly, his voice rough. The sound of it sends little shivers down Kurt's spine. Skype or the phone can never truly catch Blaine's voice. Can never truly describe how it can be bright and lively, echoing the bowtie clad child who cannot stand still or how it can be marbled and deep, like the feeling of smooth gravel brushing against the palm of your hand.

Kurt smiles and finds his own voice, speaking softly into Blaine's ear."Liar."

They both laugh, Kurt feeling the rumble of Blaine's chest against his own. Reluctantly, they pull away to look deep into each other's eyes. Kurt reaches over and brushes his slender fingers over Blaine's cheek, making the other boy close his eyes and shudder slightly at the simple touch.

Kurt's heart swells as Blaine's lashes flutter open and move closer and then they are kissing for the first time in what seems like forever, clichéd as it sounds. The feeling of Blaine's soft lips against his own is so natural.

Kurt Hummel is really home.

Their mouths slide smoothly together until Burt clears his throat. Blaine jumps back quickly, flashing a bright grin to Kurt who is rolling his eyes, before turning to Burt, "Hey Mr. Hummel!"

"Yeah yeah,"Burt replies gruffly, but is unable to keep the smile off his face.

Carole bustles out of the kitchen. "Hello there Blaine! It's so nice to see you. Kurt, how about you get him out of that wet jacket before the poor boy catches his death, and then we can have some dinner."

Kurt helps Blaine shrug off his coat and hangs it out to dry, and they share a quick kiss before walking hand in hand to the dining room where Finn is already seated and started, "Oh hey Blaine," hesays with his mouth full.

"Hey man. Good to see you."

Finn nods in agreement and everyone settles down to eat, laughing and talking, sharing stories and jokes.

Kurt can barely keep his eyes off Blaine, who either listens intently or joins in, speaking animatedly with his father and Finn about American football when the topic arises. Blaine periodically sneaks glances at Kurt when Burt is turned away, and blushes furiously when he catches Kurt staring. _He's so unbelievably gorgeous. How the hell was I so lucky_, Kurt thinks inwardly, _How is it even possible that he got even more beautiful after all this time? _He just wants to hold him, run his fingers through those dark curls, treasure him, kiss him…

"So Blaine, how's McKinley?" Burt's question pulls Kurt out of his reverie. Thankfully.

Blaine looks down at his plate, apparently his food just became extremely interesting. "Uh McKinley? It's um… It's fine." He composes himself and looks up but avoids Kurt's eyes, "It's fine. Not the same without everyone of course but yeah… It's okay. So, Kurt, how's Rachel? Has she found New York to her expectations?"

Confused at the subject change, Kurt hesitates a second before replying. The moment passes and the conversation continues. Kurt glances at his dad, who just shrugs.

_It's nothing. You're just overreacting. Relax. _He thinks to himself but makes a mental note to ask Blaine about it later.

Once dinner is finished, Blaine is helping Kurt put away the dishes despite numerous protests when thunder claps loudly, echoing through the house. The boys turn to each other and Kurt rushes to the window, taking a look outside. The rains falls in sheets and Blaine's car is barely visible parked at the side of the road. The wind whistles, lightning flashes, and thunder roars. The trees sway sharply in the breeze, black brushes painting the sky a dull gray, the clouds like smoke rolling and blanketing the world in loud darkness.

Kurt turns to Burt, "Dad! Blaine has to stay the night. Look outside."

Blaine instantly protests, "Kurt…"

But Burt is nodding his head, "Kurt's right. Son, there's no way I'm going to let you drive in that."

"It's really not too bad…"

But Burt is having none of that. "You can sleep on the couch tonight. Call your parents and let them know."

Blaine relaxes, "Thank you sir."

"Don't mention it. Kurt, you go get something for Blaine to sleep in."

Kurt nods brightly, turning to his bedroom, "Come on Blaine!"

The boys bound down the stairs, "Door open!" Burt shouts after them, but doesn't pursue it.

The moment they are in Kurt's bedroom, Kurt shoves Blaine down on the bed, kissing him urgently. Blaine laughs in between kisses, trying to halfheartedly to push Kurt off of him. "Kurt… We have to sleep…. I have… school tomorrow." He chokes out and gasps as Kurt kisses his neck. He squirms, pinned to the sheets, unable to stop laughing at his persistent boyfriend, but is held tightly. Surrendering and allowing Kurt to kiss him, the younger boy wraps his arms tight around the boy above him and pulls him down closer, deepening the kiss. Blaine's legs naturally spread, allowing Kurt to slide between them and get closer. They kiss languidly until Kurt moves to lean against Blaine's chest, and then there's a sharp stab of pain and Blaine is pulling away with a gasp, eyes watering.

Kurt instantly leaps off and looks down concerned. "Oh my god Blaine I am so sorry…"

Blaine sits up with a wince, reaching for Kurt's hand, "Not your fault."

"Are you alright?"

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Blaine."

He sighs, "Seriously Kurt it's nothing. I uh, tripped today at school and my chest is a little sore from the fall."

Kurt still looks concerned, "Do you need ice or something? Are you sure it's not serious?"

"I'm fine Kurt. Really,"Blaine replies steadily.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I forgot," He laughs embarrassedly, running his fingers through his curls, "You're… uh… distracting."

Kurt smiles and leans down, kissing Blaine gently before pulling away quickly, leaving Blaine chasing his lips. Pouting his lips much like a toddler indignant at not receiving a promised chocolate, Blaine whines, "Kurrrt, I'm not going to break."

Kurt laughs at his boyfriend's expression but moves away to rummage through his drawers, pulling out some black sweatpants and a white t-shirt and throwing them at Blaine. "You're right though, it's already late and we need to get up early tomorrow."

Blaine, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, freezes, "We?"

"Of course. I want see everybody. Mercedes, Santana and everyone else will be there too. It's supposed to be a like a little surprise Glee club reunion." He spins to Blaine, "Don't tell anybody else."

"Then why don't you just drop by during Glee club?"

"Oh I won't stay the whole day, trust me I don't have _that_ many good memories there. I'll probably just drop you off, visit a couple teachers, and then come back in the afternoon for the reunion. Unless of course you want me to say the whole day…"

Blaine replies quickly, "Oh no, noI need to focus on classes anyways."

"And I'm distracting?"

Blaine smiles, "Exactly."

"I can't help but pull focus sorry."

Blaine chuckles, opening his arms hopefully. Kurt moves into them and kisses him again, pushing him gently back down to the mattress, carefully avoiding putting pressure on his chest. "You take my breath away," he mumbles against Blaine's lips, which smile at the memory. Blaine's hand run down Kurt's sides, and then rise up to cup his face, pulling him in closer and…

Darkness.

**TBC**

**Thank you all for reading and the reaction from the first chapter like wow. And a HUGE GINORMOUS MEGA GIANT JUST BASICALLY BIG ****THANK YOU**** to the fabulous Ishy (go check out her tumblr darrentweededafan), my ridiculously wonderfully talented beta and great friend. She shields you from my pathetic grammar and typos (like I have this problem with commas and you don't have see that shit because of her, be grateful). You should be glad that you're not my beta, because I drive that poor girl crazy. A HUGE thank you to her. **

**I'm going to try my very best to post every Wednesday evening/Thursday morning (depending on where you are on the planet). Not going to guarantee anything because I don't want to publish some half-assed chapter if I run out of time. But I'm pretty good with deadlines and Ishy works pretty damn quick so you can expect one then unless I say otherwise (I'll communicate via my tumblr, aslytherinindistrict12, or you can just PM me). **

**Now that all that fine print is out of the way, I can formally thank you for reading and encourage (basically beg) for you to review. It honestly means so much (and I have traffic stats SO I KNOW YOU'RE THERE YOU CAN'T HIDE) and helps me get the writing done quicker and better. (5 stars for motivation). Plus I really do respond and take your suggestions, questions, and comments into mind so don't be shy. I don't bite and you're curled up on your computer miles away so you shouldn't be worried about that anyways. **

**Once again, thank you! Hope to see you all back next week! Hugs!**


	3. Dancing Candles

**Glee restarted! And Blaine singing It's Time to Kurt was so ridiculously adorable and wonderful. Here's your chapter as promised :)**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Glee. If I did, Blaine would have said goodbye to Kurt at the airport. **

The boys freeze and sit up, confused. They're in complete darkness, and all they can hear is the faint rumble of thunder from outside.

"The power was probably cut by the storm," Kurt whispers and rises, holding his hands in front of him, stumbling blindly for the door. He can hear Blaine breathing heavily from the bed and he walks in the general direction of the stairs, bumping into something. "Ouch."

"Are you alright?" comes Blaine's concerned voice from the darkness.

"Yeah. Just my dresser."

The door creaks open and a dim light hovers from above.

"Kurt?" Burt calls out.

"Yeah Dad I'm right here."

"You and Blaine alright?"

"We're fine. What's happening?"

"The storm must have taken out the power. And we're out of batteries. So we're just going to have to deal with candles until tomorrow. We should all be getting into bed anyways," Burt says grimly. "Kurt, you come up and get some candles and prepare the couch for Blaine."

Kurt groans but moves toward the light, his father's face appearing in the glow of a candle. He takes the candle from his father and hands it to Blaine, who hovers behind him. "Go get changed. Use this to see." He instructs, gently pressing the candle into Blaine's hand. "Careful you don't burn yourself honey." He says softly.

He sees the faint form of Blaine nod and take the candle, using it to light his way to the bed where the clothes Kurt had handed him are laid out.

With a sigh, Kurt follows his father and closes the door behind him. The living room and kitchen are faintly lighted with the glow of multiple candles, casting shuddering light over the dark room. Finn is carefully carrying a couple to his room and Carole is in the kitchen lighting some more. When Kurt approaches, she hands him a plate of candles.

"Go put these in your room sweetie and grab Blaine. You both should be getting some sleep. I've put a couple of clean blankets on the couch. We're off to bed but don't take too long. Remember, he has school, even if you don't." Sheinstructs firmly but kindly. "Make sure you blow out the candles before you go to sleep. Do you need anything else?"

"No thanks Carole. Goodnight."

"Goodnight sweetheart."And with that she grabs a couple of candles of her own and follows Burt up to their bedroom.

The house is silent except for the rain pounding against the windows. It thuds steadily against the window, a soundtrack on an endless loop, broken by sporadic rumbles of thunder. It resonates in the quiet of the house and Kurt can't help but want to stand and listen to it forever. But he wants Blaine to listen with him. He carefully holds the candles and goes to his room, eyes on the stairs to make sure he doesn't trip on his way down, but moving silently in hopes of surprising Blaine. The thunder claps loudly and Kurt's heart flutters involuntarily and he tightens his hold on the candle, gripping onto the railing and pausing, as if the thunder clap could push him off. Steadying his heartbeat, he peers in the room and sees the faint form of Blaine. His back is turned and Kurt moves closer, watching as an oblivious Blaine lifts his shirt over his head and throws it on the bed.

Getting ready to scold Blaine on the treatment of his clothes but eager to see his boyfriend shirtless for the first time in months, Kurt moves closer, holding the candle out.

And freezes.

Unable to stop himself, he gasps, causing Blaine to spin around. His eyes widen when he sees Kurt and he looks blindly for a shirt but it has fallen to the floor. It doesn't matter anyway.The damage has already been done.

Kurt knows.

A soft hand on his shoulder stops Blaine's movements and the younger boy stands stiffly, looking in the darkness behind Kurt as he feels eyes roam across his torso.

The candlelight flickers and dances across Blaine's bare skin, shedding light on the many bruises and discolorations that stain the tan. Even in the dim light they are clear, and Kurt's heart constricts as he imagines how they'll look in the daylight. Bruises that splash across his ribs and up to his chest, where healthy skin is barely visible. A careless splatter of awful color on the usually beautiful canvas of Blaine's skin. Kurt's fingertips softy touch Blaine and he watches as Blaine's chest rises and falls, the steady pattern interrupted every so often by small spasms accompanied by a slight hitch of Blaine's breath. The cry of bruised ribs that had been ignored for much too long. Kurt's panicked eyes rise to Blaine's shoulders where more mar the skin and a couple of fresh and old scratches and raw patches peek out, angry red welts taunting him as they creep across his boyfriend's body. And Kurt knows that if he made Blaine turn around he would see more painful scars on his back because Kurt knows exactly where one might get those scratches. He knows how they're caused. Doesn't even have to think about it.

They are caused by being slammed repeatedly against a locker.

After all, they once used to stain his skin. Now they stain that of his boyfriend, who shivers slightly underneath his eyes.

Blaine exhales, his breath shakes as it leaves his lungs, "Kurt…" He'd closed his eyes as Kurt's scorching eyes had blazed across his skin, setting it alight and crackling without even burning him. He knows tears are welling in Kurt's beautiful blue eyes, and he'd rather be shoved into a hundred more lockers and slushied a million more times than have to watch Kurt cry. _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, _he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, _I can never do anything right. I just make people unhappy. You weren't supposed to find out like this. You were never supposed to find out._ He can feel himself trembling, but it isn't cold, and Blaine wishes he was like Alice, shrinking and shrinking and shrinking before she finally disappears into Wonderland.

Ripping his gaze away from his boyfriend's ravaged skin, Kurt moves his fingers to Blaine's cheek, brushing away the tear that had trickled down involuntarily, making hazel eyes open to meet his own, which instead of being panicked, sad, or even angry, are calm. Taking a deep breath, he speaks carefully, as if trapping words and thoughts that threaten to spill through, "We are going to talk about this in the morning. You need to sleep." He bends down slowly and grabs the white t-shirt, handing it to Blaine, who slips it on quickly. Kurt turns around as he does and he clasps his hands in front of him. They tremble softly and his heart beats rapidly, almost painfully, in his chest.

Then it's silent. A silence that seems to enjoy being unbroken.

"Kurt…"

"Stop it Blaine. Just please, stop this." Kurt replies shakily. "I just can't… wha… how…" He swallows. "I can't." And with that he moves away and rises up the stairs.

Blaine follows him and settles down on the couch.

"No. You have to take the bed. You'll hurt your back more."

"The couch is fine. _I'm _fine Kurt."

"No you're not! Have you taken a look at yourself? Because that's sure as hell not fine." Kurtsnaps, his composure cracking.

"Please Kurt," Blaine pleads."Just let me sleep here."

Kurt runs his fingers through his hair but doesn't argue further. There are so many thoughts and emotions spinning through his head, he feels he might explode. But instead of doing that, he helps Blaine make himself comfortable, pushing him back and tucking pillows around him, and covering him in blankets. Once or twice he sees Blaine wince as he shifts and Kurt just bites his lip. How could he not have noticed this before?

"Kurt."

Kurt sighs, "Yes Blaine?"

"Are you mad?" Blaine quietly replies in a small voice.

His heart breaks and he kneels beside the couch, kissing Blaine's forehead, brushing the curls from his face with light fingertips. "No I'm not… Just get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning." He leans down to kiss him, brushing his lips lightly against his boyfriend's warm skin. Every move he makes is gentle and hesitant, as if he's afraid Blaine will shatter into a thousand shards and disappear into the fluttering dark.

Then he pulls away and blows out the candles, moving slowly back to his bedroom.

Blaine's voice rises out of the darkness, "I love you."

Kurt hesitates, heart constricting tightly, "I love you too. Goodnight Blaine."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

Kurt disappears into his room, and changes into his pajamas. Not even bothering with his moisturizing routine he crashes onto his bed. The smell of Blaine still lingers on the pillows and he watches the candlelight flicker for hours, the small flame fluttering and twisting, the wax sliding down the candle in tiny drops. The wisp of light moves in front of his eyes, the darkness giving it a stage to dance on.

Confusion.

Betrayal.

Guilt.

Concern.

Fear.

Love.

Anger.

Hurt.

Guilt.

A thousand thoughts, a thousand feelings, and a million questions tear him apart as he lies motionless for hours. It's impossible to sleep. Exhausted but restless. He just keeps watching the little flame dance, wondering whether it would be happier if it had a partner. Wondering what would happen if they burned each other. Wondering whether they even could. Wondering what would happen to the little flame if its partner was blown out, disappearing into insignificant little wisps of smoke. A fist cruelly squeezes his heart.

Thunder claps loudly outside as he slips out of bed, the now much shorter candle lighting his way. Kurt warms some milk and drinks itslowly, watching the rain from the window. The night outside is even darker and lightning flashes, illuminating the room with white light for a fleeting second and Kurt watches the windows cry and listens to the sounds of the storm, a lullaby that can't seem to sing him to sleep.

He just wants to make it all okay.

Putting the mug in the sink he quietly walks into the living room and kneels beside the couch where Blaine is fast asleep, breathing deeply, lips slightly parted. He smiles at his peaceful expression and watches him fondly, his fingers lightly stroking the rain-cleaned curls that are still a little damp at the roots.

The last time he watched Blaine sleep was after their first time.

Blaine sighs in his sleep, shifting slightly. He mumbles and breathes in soft puffs, eyelashes curling onto his cheeks. _God he's so beautiful. _Kurt's heart constricts and he smiles softly, and he leans closer to Blaine, breathing in his warm, achingly familiar scent and pressing his lips to his forehead, feeling Blaine exhaling softly into his neck. He pulls away but stays close, tracing Blaine's features with careful eyes. Memorizing them again. And again. And again.

Watching Blaine sleep was quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes.

Thunder roars outside and he almost laughs at how deep in slumber Blaine is. He sits up straighter and studies him in the flickering candlelight, trying to find some sort of clue. Some sort of hint. After a while, it's like a fog before his eyes clear and he can _really_ see Blaine. See how tired he looks. See how sad he is. See the creases in his brow. See the dark circles under his eyes. _How long has it been since he's slept?_ Kurt thinks concerned. He hears Blaine wheeze uncomfortably as he sleeps, a small cough interrupting his peaceful breathing, sending a flash of pain across his face.

_Blaine whines, "Kurrrt, I'm not going to break."_

Kurt bites his lip and feels tears sting his eyes as he hears Blaine voice in his head.

"_I'm not going to break."_

"_I'm not going to break."_

"_I'm not going to break."_

Blaine's voice chants in his head. A never ending loop of the same five words. Over and over and over.

_No you're not going to break Blaine._

_Because you can't break something that's already broken. _

Kurt's eyes roam down Blaine's body, where the blankets have slipped to his waist. Kurt's fingers gently graze over the bare skin of his arm, where faint bruising is visible that he knows continues underneath the white shirt. He stares at the discoloration for a long time and sees the imprints of where fingers have gripped too tightly in the dim candlelight. After a while he realizes that tears are streaking down his cheeks and he wipes them away quickly. He pulls up the blankets, tucking Blaine in securely. All he wants is to cradle him in his arms and forget all of this and just tell him that everything's okay.

But it's not.

"Who did this to you?" hewhispers brokenly to the silence. "And how didn't I know?"

**Aww poor Kurt. We'll just have to wait till morning to see what he does…. (And by morning I mean next update. Sorry!). As always, a thank you to my fabulous beta. She's kinda dying under a pile of school-work (we all know how that feels) but she was still able to edit the first draft. So she's fantastic and much gratitude to her. Show her some love everybody! **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Great response so far and I'm so excited to hear what you guys think as the story progresses. Please review and enjoy the rest of your day! **


	4. Patterns

**Hello there! Just have to say, Glee spoilers are killing me. Honestly. It's going to be slow, painful, and utterly inevitable death as episode 4 approaches. **

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Glee. If I did, the show would be much less predictable. **

Kurt wakes up in his bed the next morning after a mostly sleepless night. The alarm clock rings sharply and Kurt silences it with a swift fist. He remembers stumbling away from Blaine down to his bed and then crying himself to sleep.

_What is happening?_

He rises slowly, pulling his feet to the ground and stands up. He sways on his feet and stumbles into the shower. The hot water streams down his pale skin, catching in his lashes and making him blink. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and stands, trying to breathe. _Oh god Oh god Blaine is being abused and bullied and no one knows and he's probably injured and he could be in the hospital and you didn't know how couldn't you know what's wrong with you._ He shakes his head and tilts his head back, letting the water splash against his face and comb through his hair. Feeling unsteady on his feet, he leans against the shower wall, letting the water pound against back, relaxing his body as his mind tenses. Just breathe Kurt. Breathe.

Stepping out of the shower and letting the cold air shock him awake, Kurt quickly getsdressed and drags himself up the stairs where he sees Carole bustling about in the kitchen and Burt grabbing an apple before slipping outside with a quick wave to his son. Blaine is nowhere to be seen and Kurt enters the kitchen.

"Good morning Kurt. I made breakfast!"

Kurt can't help but smile weakly at her cheeriness. "Good morning Carole. Where's Blaine?"

"He's taking a shower and getting dressed in our room. I gave him some of your clothes that just came out of the wash. Simple stuff."

"Thank you." He sits down and begins to eat quietly.

Carole frowns down at him. "Kurt, is something wrong?"

Kurt looks down at his plate. He draws in his breath as if he has something to say something but quiets.

"Kurt?"

He clears his throat and asks, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything dear."

Kurt's eyes flit about the room and he bites his lip before saying slowly, "Would you hurt someone you care about, in order to make them safe?"

Carole looks at Kurt steadily for a moment and forms her words carefully, "The safety of the people I care about is always my priority."

Kurt nods slowly, looking down at his food intently but before Carole can pursue the thought, Blaine stumbles in, freshly showered and dressed, but still rubbing sleep from his eyes. _Damnit how is he so beautiful and adorable? How could someone hurt him? _Kurt thinks tiredly.

"Good morning!" Blaine chirps cheerfully with a smile, his regular albeit sleepy self. Once his eyes land on Kurt and he sees how tired he looks, he visibly wilts.

Carole looks between the two confused but decides not to interfere. For now. "Good morning Blaine. Eat some breakfast and then you best be off. What about you Kurt?"

"I'm going to drive him there." He replies swiftly, and Blaine glances up at him and bites his lip.

The two eat quickly and then go down to Kurt's room to brush their teeth. After they do that Kurt pulls out a digital camera and stands in front of Blaine, who looks at him questioningly.

"Take off your shirt." Kurt orders, voice steady. But the hands that hold the camera tremble.

"Kurt…"

"Please Blaine. Once we get home we're going to ice those bruises and check them out to make sure there's nothing serious. So, I need pictures of them while they're still fresh. Please don't make this harder than it already is for me."

Blaine looks down guiltily and Kurt sees his eyes shining. "I… Kurt it's nothing serious please, it's okay…"

"No it's not. It's not okay." Kurt says firmly. "I need these pictures just for the future. Blaine, I need you to trust me." Kurt continues softly, "Remember how you used to trust me?"

"I still do."

Kurt smiles sadly, "No you don't."

Blaine looks down at his feet.

Clearing his throat, Kurt asks again, voice shaking. "Blaine. Please."

After a quiet moment, Blaine nods and then pulls off his cardigan and shirt, leaving himself in his white tank.

"That too Blaine."

Once it flutters to the floor, Kurt watches as Blaine instinctively moves to cover himself with his arms, but then drops his hands to his sides, looking up at the ceiling instead. Taking a deep breath, Kurt moves closer, biting his lip till he can taste blood as he snaps pictures of severe bruising, the scarring, and the raw, ravaged skin, the whole time muttering "I'm sorry, I am so,so sorry, just a couple more. I'm so sorry."

After a minute, Kurt whispers, not trusting his voice, "I'm done."

Blaine hurriedly gets dressed and walks over to where Kurt still stands frozen, eyes closed. He moves his hand hesitantly move to brush away his tears, but withdraws it nervously as Kurt opens his eyes. As if touching Kurt would break down the wall they built between each other that keeps all the emotions from flooding out. "No, I'm sorry," Blaine says softly. "I am so, so sorry."

Kurt swallows, "For what?"

"Making you cry."

Not the answer Kurt wanted.

The two stand in silence, but do not touch.

"I'm going to be late," Blaine says, voice quiet and withdrawn.

It hurts to see him like this but Kurt nods and then the two run upstairs and slide into the car. Once they pull into the parking lot of the school, Blaine reaches to open the door but Kurt locks it.

Blaine turns to look at him. "Kurt?"

Staring at the steering wheel, Kurt replies, "Blaine, I am not going to let you go back into that goddamned school until you tell me what has happened to you."

"I'm going to be late…"

"No you are not. You have a free period in the morning." Kurt says crisply, his voice trembling with withheld rage as he finally snaps, the wall between them finally crumbling, "I just… Who did this to you? Why do you want to hide this from me? Why didn't you tell me? Do you not trust me? What did I do to make you not want to talk to me? Why did you lie to me? Just-"

"Stop it!" Blaine's voice cracks as he begs softly, "Just stop it."

"Then why don't you just tell me?" Kurt pleads, "Blaine I'm not stupid. I know where that scarring comes from. I just don't understand…"

"And you think I do? I have no idea why they hate me but they just do and there's nothing I can do about it."

Kurt throws up his hands, "I can't believe you're thinking like this. Blaine, there's a difference between hating you and then beating you!"

"I know! Stop treating me like a child!" Blaine says, raising his voice.

"Then stop acting like one and tell me what's going on!" Kurt shouts back.

Blaine runs his fingers over his gelled curls and stares out the window at the school. "Fine. Just some new kids came and changed McKinley. Made life a living hell. There's bullying and slushies and being shoved into lockers and being tripped and I can't do a thing because I'll be suspended if I get into another fight and that'll go on my record so no college in New York will accept me and I can't go to live with you. And I have to stay after schooland I don't sleep because my parents fight all the time and I can't tell them because they'll just blame each other," hesays quickly, tripping over his own words, eyes avoiding Kurt's.

Kurt stares at his boyfriend in shock. "And you decided that I didn't have to know this?"

"Look Kurt. There's nothing that can be done. Get over it," Blaine says tiredly.

"_Get over it!?_ Blaine, you could've been put in a _hospital_ and you want me to get _over_ it?" Kurt's voice is shrill as it rises. "Forget about me, how can _you_ think so low of yourself that you allow this to happen? How can I be with someone who thinks so little of themselves?"

"No one's forcing you to be!" Blaine shouts.

Both of them quiet and pull back from each other as if burned. Kurt hastily wipes away his tears, studying his reflection in the mirror. Both breathe and then Blaine says quietly. "I have to go."

Kurt clears his throat and sighs tiredly. "I don't care what you say, I can't let you go with those Neanderthals. I'll go with you…"

"No. Kurt please. You'll only make it worse."

A second passes but then Kurt wordlessly unlocks the door and Blaine pauses, opening his mouth to say something, but leaves, shutting the door behind him. Kurt watches him disappear within the doors, and whips out his phone. No way is he going to leave Blaine alone, regardless of what he said, and with a face set with determination sends a message to Tina. She could take care of him until Glee, because now there's something Kurt has to do.

He's going to make this right.

He has to.

With one last lingering look at the school, Kurt pulls out of the parking lot and drives home. He swings the door open and rushes inside. The house is quiet, with his father and stepmother at work and Finn still asleep. It takes all of Kurt's will to think clearly, and not just rush back to McKinley and destroying everybody in his path. But he remains focused, mouth set in a tight line.

He has to keep Blaine safe.

He has to make this right.

After quietly slipping to Finn's room to set his alarm clock and leave a note, Kurt springs into action. Phone calls to the returning Glee club members and Mr. Schue. Ordering pizza and assigning someone to pick it up. He works nonstop, but it's taking too long and soon he only has one hour left. Finn has woken up and gone to the market to pick up a couple of last minute items, with a promise to get to school early to help set up.

Finally, with everything set into place. Kurt runs to his computer and transfers the photos from his camera and prints them out. The printer's sharp sounds, inking onto the plain white paper the truth that Kurt wishes he couldn't believe, stab into Kurt's heart with swift and shallow cuts. The person in the photos is a stranger. It can't be his adorable, lovable, hyperactive boyfriend. It can't be that boy laughing on his desktop background. It can't be that boy who serenades him in crowded courtyards and snowy Christmas nights.

It can't be his Blaine.

But it is, and with a face set in a grim mask he slides the photos into a file and runs out the door and drives a little too quickly to the school and with a deep breath, Kurt steps inside the familiar doors of McKinley High School.

Punch.

Breath.

Punch. Punch.

Breath.

Repeat.

There's something about patterns that sets Blaine's at ease. Whether it's a synchronized Warbler step or a dance routine. He can channel emotions and frustrations. In patterns Blaine's mind can be put to rest, all bothersome little nags and worries put away as he focuses on continuing the pattern.

Punch.

Breath.

Punch. Punch.

Breath.

Repeat.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Punch.

Breath.

Punch. Punch.

Breath.

Repeat.

Tina moves closer and hovers behind him hesitantly, but Blaine simply continues his pattern.

"Are you allowed to be in here?" hefinally asks, eyes still focused on the steady thumps of his fists against the worn red bag.

"Probably not. But no one comes in here during classes, except you when you have a free period. Which you have Tuesday mornings."

"Didn't know I was so predictable."

Tina chuckles, "After spending almost a year with someone, you tend to find out where they go when something's on their mind."

Blaine falters for a second but then shakes his head quickly and resumes his pattern.

Punch.

Breath.

Punch. Punch.

Breath.

Repeat.

"Blaine."

Punch.

Breath.

Punch. Punch.

Breath.

Repeat.

"Please."

Blaine stops and turns to face the girl, who looks at him concerned. He sighs and begins unstrapping his gloves. "Kurt talked to you." he says curtly.

"Through a strongly worded text message yes." Tina nods. "He's not happy."

Blaine looks down and collapses on a bench with a sigh. Tina slides in after him. He can hear her inhale sharply as she sees the bruises from underneath his tank, staining his skin. He's too tired to hide them anymore. It's silent for a moment as Tina studies the marks on his skin, eyes shining.

"I never knew it was this bad."

Blaine puts his head in his hands. The gel has mixed with sweat and it's sticky. He smoothes his hands over his head and wipes the residue on his tank.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell me?" Tina says softly. "I could've stayed after school with you-"

Blaine sighs inwardly, _why do people care so much about my life?_ He shakes his head."So more than one Glee club member looks like a rotten fruit? What good could've it done?"

"I don't know."

The two sit in silence once again. It's hard to create and form words. They just don't happen. There's barely anything to say. So Tina backtracks.

"You should have told somebody," shesays at last.

"Oh not you too."

"Blaine, he has a right to be worried. Everyone does. You could've gotten seriously hurt."

Blaine stands and stalks away, throwing his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. "I could've gotten seriously hurt at my old public school. No one cared then. No one could _do_ anything then. And in the end when I finally stood up to them and ignored what they thought I got the crap beat out of me. In the end I still had to run. No, not this time. I'm not going to do the same thing. It's better to just lie low. I _will not_ run away this time."

"And so you won't fight either?"

"I can't! I'm sick and tired of fighting this thing. It's not working. It didn't work then, what makes this time any different?"

Tina stands. "You know what Blaine, I'm not going to argue with you about this. Maybe Kurt will help you see sense. Anyways, I just came to tell you to meet at the choir room at lunch."

Blaine looks at her wearily, "Why?"

"I don't know. That's just what Mr. Schue told me." She turns and walks to the door and then pauses, "Oh and Blaine? I know it doesn't seem like it now, but here isn't like your old public school." she says softly.

"Oh yeah? In what way?" Blaine challenges.

"Here you're not alone." And with that she exits, clicking the door shut behind her, leaving Blaine standing resigned, arms hanging slack at his sides. Pattern forgotten.

**TBC **

**AHHH I'm so excited for the next chapter like I'm going to frustrate you all and it's going to be glorious (oh am I trolling? Forgive me, I'm attempting to mimic Steven Moffat). I'm also ridiculously excited for the next Glee episode (KLAINE SKYPE CALL if I'm keeping track of the spoilers correctly. CAN'T WAIT!) **

**Alright, so Ishy was back after her hell week and was able to edit this chapter. So thank you to her. And even more "thank yous" to all of you reading! Whether you follow, favorite, review, or simply read, I'm extremely grateful to you all! Thank you so very much! **

**As always, I love to hear what you guys think. Feedback is so helpful and motivational so if you can, it'd be awesome if you'd review. Reviews are oxygen. Much gratitude and many hugs! **


	5. Safe in Your Arms

**Hey everyone! Since I'm getting a lot of "anonymous" reviewers I'm going to reply to them from now on. **

**jill:**** Well, I added a little more love for Blaine in this chapter for you:) I did kind of deny him that earlier? Ooops. Thanks for bringing that to my attention sweetheart. FIXED IT! Kind of... **

**Guest:**** I hope you'll still like where I'm going with it! And I'm so happy you agree with the characterization! Thanks for your patience in waiting for the updates, I try my hardest to make the chapters worth the wait. **

**Sinkwriter:**** Yes, Tina is awesome haha. Glad you liked it! And Kurt does have one hell of a plan. But could it be too late?**

**SO this is chapter is handed to you from a small corner where your author and her beta are trying to pick up the pieces of their hearts off the floor and puzzle them back together. (BECAUSE DOCTOR WHO THE PONDS NO) Unfortunately our hearts won't stay intact for much longer will they? **

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Glee. If I did, the next episode wouldn't be happening. At least not like this. **

The hallway is empty as Kurt steps inside his old school. His shoes clip sharply against the cold linoleum. He can hear the sounds of the students and teachers faintly emanating from the classrooms. So many memories in these halls. Good and bad. Lost in thought, he almost slips. Looking down, he sees some colored water. Remnants of a hastily wiped up slushy. _I wonder who delivered it, _Kurt thinks with a sigh, _and who was the recipient. _

The thought sends Kurt walking faster, rage building and building until it flares up, sparking a boiling furnace, making his very eyes crackle like lightning.

He's going to change this.

Kurt reaches Principal's Figgins office and barges in without knocking, slamming the door behind him. Figgins is in there of course, it's as if he lives there.

The McKinley principal looks up and seeing Kurt smiles, "Oh hello Mr. Hummel, welcome back!" Kurt looks wordlessly down at him, blue eyes flashing. "Mr. Hummel?"

"My _boyfriend_," Kurt emphasizes, "Blaine Anderson is being bullied. And I need it to stop. And those responsible punished."

Figgins sets his hands on the desk, lacing his fingers together before sighing, "Slushies are not on the school board's approved list of suspend worthy weapons."

"I don't think a slushy could have done this," Kurt spits, slamming the file down on the Principal's desk.

Hesitantly, Figgins slides the photos out and flips threw them, inhaling sharply. Images of Blaine's bruised body inked into the crisp pages in vibrant color. Every detail laid in scorching clarity onto every page. As he goes through the small stack, Kurt continues with a steady voice, "Now I have seriously thought about reporting this. Or giving these photos to the school board, or CNN. But I don't think you want that."

Kurt stalks closer to the desk, looking down at Figgins who sits frozen in his seat. His hands shake and he grips the edge of the desk tightly, the wood digging into his palms as he snaps, "This is _not _acceptable. And I'm not the kid who walked into this school years ago so don't you _dare_ ignore this. This time I'm not going to take the damn high road. I've seen my boyfriend in a hospital once, and I _will not_ be doing it again. I_ will_ do something if you do not. This school is supposed to make kids-" His voice begins to tremble with withheld rage, "_safe._ And if you cannot create that environment the board will find someone suitable to replace you, I'll make sure of that."

Figgins carefully sets the photos back down on the desk, as if they'll explode and set fire to the school. "We have a zero-tolerance physical violence policy…" he whispers meekly.

Kurt scoffs, "Apparently not everyone knows. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to tell every teacher to keep their eye out. You are going to stay afterschool and monitor what happens and _anyone _seen harming another student faces an automatic suspension. And you make that clear to the entire student body as well. You are also going to wipe Blaine's record of all those misconduct infractions because they were clearly products of self defense. And you definitely are not going to suspend him for fighting because he has to right to defend himself if you fail to do so. If this doesn't happen then I'm going to the board, and I'm bring those photos and my boyfriend with me." Figgins nods slowly and begins to return the photos to the file when Kurt interrupts his movement, "Oh you can keep those. I have copies at home."

Kurt turns to leave when Figgins calls out weakly, "Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes Principal Figgins?"

"I didn't know. If I had-"

"I know you didn't. You don't know about a lot of things that happen in this school. But the thing is, I don't care," Kurt hisses, "_It's your job to know._"

Figgins forces a smile, "You would make a good lawyer Mr. Hummel."

Kurt laughs humorlessly, "Oh I'm not sure about that, but you can be sure that I will find one if anyone in this school lays a finger on my boyfriend again." And with that Kurt leaves, slamming the door behind him a crash, leaving Figgins staring after him in shock.

The lunch bell rings loudly throughout the halls as Kurt weaves through the mill of students who are eager for lunch and eager to escape class. Kurt smiles. The scene is so familiar. But is it just him, or are the hallways quieter?

Shaking his head, Kurt reaches the choir room. His breath catches in his throat as he looks into the room. The chairs. The piano. The band. That window he always looked out of. It's all the same. Oh the things that happened here. The laughs, the shouts, the tears, the speeches. It's as if nothing changed. There's Finn, Mercedes, Puck, Quinn and Mike on the seats, while Rachel buzzes about ordering people around and perfecting the scene while Santana scoffs in response. All the returning students are back, and they chat amongst themselves.

It feels like home.

Pizza is spread out on a few empty chairs, and sets out the plates. Kurt hugs all his old friends and his teacher, and as they wait for the younger members of the New Directions to arrive, they talk excitedly about their college experiences and how it feels to be back.

But Kurt isn't entirely captivated by the conversation, and every couple of seconds his blue eyes flit to the doorway. Watching. And waiting.

Finally, Blaine arrives with Tina and Artie in tow, and the other members of the Glee club only seconds behind. Kurt narrows his eyes when he sees that Blaine's wearing a different shirt than earlier in the morning.

"SURPRISE!" The returning students scream, jumping out of their seats.

Kurt watches Blaine receive hugs with a careful eyes as he deals out his own. Once everyone is reunited and has a full plate, everyone sits in a sorry excuse of a circle and talks, relishing every moment together as the dysfunctional but loving family they are.

Blaine hesitantly makes his way to Kurt. The boys look at each other for a second. "Did you do this?" Blaine asks quietly. Kurt nods. "Why?"

"Because once that bell rings for the end of classes, I'm spending every minute of my vacation with you," Kurt replies in a soft voice, "But I knew you wouldn't want to miss seeing everybody again. This way, you don't have to stay after school so I can take you to dinner at Breadsticks."

He doesn't mention that he only wants to keep Blaine away from the school as long as possible.

Blaine looks at him suspiciously for a moment before finally saying, "No finger snapping involved?"

"No finger snapping involved. But if we don't get our food it's your fault," Kurt assureswith a smirk.

Blaine gives a small smile, "Thank you Kurt. For everything. I'm-"

"Loverboys you can fuck each other later, sit asses down," Santana shouts.

The two laugh and join the rest. First, they sit just with their fingers laced together. But as time passes they eventually get closer and closer until Blaine is between Kurt's legs, leaning his head back against his boyfriend's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Kurt wraps his arms tightly but gently around him, holding him close, and feeling the rumble of his chest whenever he laughs. He tries to get involved in the conversation but the sensation of having Blaine wrapped safe in his arms is obscenely distracting. Every so often Kurt kisses Blaine's neck or the top of his head, or lifts a hand and fiddles with the curls that he manages to release from their gelled prison, much to Blaine's annoyance. Kurt ignores his protests and soon Blaine gives up with a chuckle.

Kurt runs his fingers up and down Blaine's arms, tracing random patterns onto his warm skin. Blaine snuggles closer to his boyfriend, tilting his head back against Kurt's chest, relaxing in his arms. Muscles loosening. Breaths deepening. He could fall asleep here. In this perfect, warm place of safety, love, contentment, and light. He could fall asleep here and just forget the world. But he doesn't.

Blaine sighs and Kurt kisses his curls softly, tightening his hold around him, cradling him gently in his arms, making Blaine hum in contentment. He seems so small, nestled into Kurt's body. The rest of the Glee club shoots them quick glances, gazes softening and sighing in relief. Because Blaine's in Kurt's arms, so everything is all right again.

After a few minutes, Kurt bends down and whispers in Blaine's ear. "You see Sam's hair?"

Blaine nods, corners of his mouth twitching up. He knows where this is going.

"He's gotten highlights. And from a cheap salon."

"How do you know?" Blaine teases. "Could be natural. Or could be from sitting in the sun too long."

"Oh Blaine. You know I have three gifts: my voice, my ability to spot trends in men's fashion, and my-"

"-ability to know when it come from a bottle," Blaine completeswith an impossibly adorable giggle, twisting his body so that he can see his boyfriend's face, content hazel eyes beautiful, shining with excitement.

_How did I get so damn lucky?_ Kurt thinks. And not for the first time.

"I love you," Blainemurmurs, closing the distance between them, staring into Kurt's arms, golden eyes wide. Then, he does one of those little things that made Kurt fall in love with him. He breaks their locked gaze and blinks, glancing away at the floor, inhaling slowly. As if the moment with Kurt is too much for him, and he needs relearn how to breathe.

Kurt smiles fondly at him and swallows the lump in his throat. "I love you too."

Their lips are only centimeters away when suddenly Blaine pulls away. Kurt looks at him confused.

"Did you hear that?"

There's a loud crack. And then another.

Kurt nods and everyone in the room looks at each other confused.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

A blood curdling scream splits the air.

Kurt's heart sinks in his chest and his eyes widen in shock and fear. And he's not alone. Because now everyone knows what the sounds are.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The cracks are gunshots.

**TBC**

**Alrighty then, until next chapter! (If I can see past my tears long enough to write it. This episode is going to kill me. Really.)**

**To each and every one of you a long, tight, and warm hug. We're all going to need a hug for the next episode. **

**COURAGE everyone. **

**We're going to need it. **


	6. Run

**Hello everyone! You all still alive after Glee? I hope your emotions have somewhat healed and everyone feels better. It was a rough couple days for Klainers. I tried to get the chapter up earlier to distract everyone but my beta was busy this week and I'm sick so it's been tough getting the chapter up. But here it is, as promised! **

**WARNING****: There is MODERATELY GRAPHIC VIOLENCE and ADULT THEMES in this chapter. Proceed with caution. If it bothers you STOP READING. Just come talk to me privately and I'll tell you what happened so you don't miss out on anything. Seriously. **

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Glee because if I did… let's not even go there now. **

**I had the song "Hurricane" by Thirty Seconds to Mars in mind as I wrote this song. It's sung in what I imagine is the perspective of the gunmen and I guess if you understand what they're feeling, it gives a little more depth to the scene and how everything is playing out. So give it a listen. **

[

[

[

Frozen in shock.

And as the screams beckon and the gunshots draw even closer, cracking and ringing through the halls of McKinley High School, a room of people sits frozen.

But as the sounds that will be forever imprinted in the minds of those there to hear them grow louder and more frequent, the people in the room begin to thaw. They rise shakily to their feet and the questions that everyone already know the answer to are asked:

"Are those gunshots?"

The answer: Yes.

"Are there gunmen in the school?"

The answer: Yes.

"There must be more than one. Who are they?"

The answer: I don't know.

"Why is this happening?"

The answer: …

Mr. Schue shushes the frantic questions and panicked whispers and is the first to spring into action. "Lock the door and pull the blinds. Mike, close the lights," he orders, "And quietly."

The students do just that and then Mr. Schue beckons them to the wall, beside the door, just in case the shooter could see through the blinds and into the room. Also so they could hear what was going on outside. Everyone huddles together and Blaine holds Kurt tightly in his arms as they try to quiet their rapid breaths. Kurt can feel Blaine trembling against him, so he laces their fingers together, squeezing his boyfriend's hand tightly. _I'm right here, you're going to be okay, we're going to be okay, _the gesture whispers, _I'm right here. _

The gun shots draw nearer. Closer, closer, ever closer. The sound of a door being kicked down. Screams. "Please don't! Please! I'm sorry!" the screams beg. Rachel clamps her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. The hushed sound of Quinn talking into her cell phone, the murmurs of the 911 operator from the other end. Tears run down cheeks. Kurt and Blaine squeeze their hands tighter, _We're going to be okay. _

_We're going to be okay. _

But closer.

And closer.

Ever closer.

And then, beating on the door.

"Hello? Glee club you in there? Ready to dance for us?"

The door knob jiggles.  
The lock holds.

Laughter. More beating.

"We know you're in there," another voice jeers. "Let's see your singing make things better now."

The beating stops.

"Get ready to run everyone, they're going to kick down the door!" Puck shouts, "Finn, Mike, Blaine, with me. We need to floor those assholes the minute that door gives way."

Mike and Finn pull away from their girlfriends, hearts caught in their throats. Blaine quickly brushes Kurt's cheek with a swift and gentle touchand tears himself away.

"Blaine!" Kurt moves to follow but Mercedes holds him back. "Let me go Cedes! I can help!"

"No, I need you to calm Rachel down so we can get the hell out of here."

Kurt nods reluctantly and rushes to the brunette, dragging Brittany along.

The boys line up in front of the door and Santana stands beside them. They look at her with raised eyebrows but she just snorts, "Just because I wasn't on the football team doesn't mean I can't tackle. It's how we do it in Lima Heights."

The lot can't help but chuckle and Puck instructs steadily, "Dive toward the legs, not the chest. We're just looking to trip the bastards and not get shot." Heturns to look back at the others who stand behind them. "The moment they drop we all run like hell, yeah? And when you hear shots, hit the floor."

There's no time to see them nod because suddenly a splintering crack resounds and the door gives way with a loud crash and suddenly the world is a blur of bodies and motion. Leaping over and around the stumbling and falling gunmen, Kurt launches into the hallway, dragging Blaine up and pulling him along. He can hear the footsteps of the other glee club members and Mr. Schue racing around him, the shouts of the gunmen, and the heavy breaths of Blaine running beside him, still gripping his hand tightly. His heart pounds and adrenaline shoots through his veins, painting the world in sharp colors and clarity. Just run.

Run.

Run.

Run.

Kurt stumbles to a halt at the side entrance and sees the doors locked shut with heavy iron chains. "Turn around! We can't get out from here! Turn around!" he shouts breathlessly.

His swift feet carry him and he tightens his grip on Blaine's hand as they twist and turn through the hallways. They turn a sharp corner, skidding and using the lockers to push off again. Blaine almost slips on a pool of blood but Kurt pulls him up and steadies him. All around his friends run, forgetting the layout of the school, no idea where they are going in this race. It's just run and get away. Run and find a way out.

There has to be a way out.

There has to be.

Kurt steps on something and freezes.

"Kurt don't look down!" Blaine pants, "Just keep going!"

Too late though.

This segment of hallway beside the cafeteria is littered with bodies. Most look dead, from bullet holes in their heads or their limp figures or the wave of scarlet that drips from their body and creeps across the floor. Some twist and groan.

Kurt screams before clapping a hand over his mouth. His body shakes as he stares in wide eyed horror along with everyone else. Blaine wraps his arms around him and holds his body tightly as the group begins to carefully pick their way across.

"Kurt look at me," Blaine whispers. Kurt obeys and looks into those beautiful hazel eyes and allows himself to get lost in that smoldering gaze for a moment. Blaine grips his shoulders tightly, "You're going to be okay. You're going to get through this. I promise."

Kurt nods slowly and steadies his breathing, giving Blaine swift hug.

Finn clears his throat and Kurt is surprised that he can muster enough strength to roll his eyes.

They begin to pick their way across when suddenly…

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

"You can't go this way! You don't have time! Hide!" Mr. Schuester shouts from the other end of the hall before he disappears, leaving Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, Finn and Puck with their hearts in their throats.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Blaine springs into action, remembering an exit, "This way!" he shouts as he pulls Kurt into the cafeteria and then five young people run into the room, carefully avoiding the bodies sprawled across the floor.

The cafeteria is bloody. It is quiet. It was the scene of the massacre, where everything had started. Bullet holes are carved into the walls, dark against the white. They wonder what happened to the lunch ladies. Did they get out in time?

They pass a table, where a couple of students lie hidden, whimpering as they approach. But they can't join them, the gunmen will see. So they keep running, not giving them a second glance while the hidden stare gratefully after them.

Blaine bursts out of the door on the other end of the cafeteria. The hallways are empty here, except for small drops of blood that are carelessly splattered upon the pale floors. Hearts beat and flutter fast as the group twists, trying to run faster and faster but behind them they hear footsteps pounding and guns firing. The cracks and steps growing louder and louder.  
Closer.

And closer.

Ever closer.

Heart heavy, Blaine looks right and left. They're running out of time. Every single classroom door is sealed shut, with no hint as to whether anyone hides inside.

And there's no one there to help.

Blaine swallows as tears prick his eyes. He has to keep Kurt safe but he's so tired. God he is so tired. His ribs and chest ache, his battered body about to collapse. He wants to cry.

Sensing his distress, Kurt squeezes his hand and pulls ahead, hearing Blaine's tired breaths behind him mingling with the feet of Finn, Rachel, and Puck.

They turn right. No left. Stay straight. Left again. Locked door. Dead end. Turn back. Turn left. Turn right. Locked door. Dead end.

And still the cracks ring sharper and sharper. Louder and louder. The silence of the school painted with exhausted breaths, pounding feet, fluttering hearts, and a distant laugh echoing through the halls.

Kurt and Blaine falter as Blaine coughs, the sharp pain in Blaine's ribs stabbing deep into him like a sharpened blade. He can't breathe and he coughs again, the action shaking his trembling body.

Puck looks at him with concerned eyes, but pushes him forward, making Blaine stumble slightly. Kurt glares at him but Puck simply whispers, "We can't stop."

And then finally. There's the side exit. Hardly anyone uses it. Except those trying to conquer the steepest wheelchair slope in Lima.

Relief floods into Puck, streaming through his body and down into the tips of his fingers. He runs ahead quickly knowing that they have to go now, the gunmen are right behind them. He pushes the door.

It doesn't move.

Puck pushes harder and Finn and Rachel join him. They push and beat the door.

And then laughter as the gunmen step into the hall behind them.

"Help!" Rachel yells, her cracking voice trying to penetrate through the door and into the world beyond, where police officers and worried parents wait at the front of the school, some with solemn faces, breaths trapped, and others in hysterical tears and shouts, being pulled back by others. Where a squat team in full protective gear unloads out of a dark truck. But no one hears a word. Because no one uses this gate except those trying to conquer the steepest wheelchair slope in Lima.

And those who wanted to get stoned during school. And those who wanted to avoid the jocks in the front with the freezing cups in their hands.

But no one ever thought about them, now did they?

The doors rattle but do not budge, the heavy chains on the other end doing their job magnificently.

The laughter is right behind them. And Rachel fists the tears off her cheeks and turns to face them with the others. On instinct, Finn steps in front of her, shielding her with his body. Puck simply glares at gunmen, his body motionless but his heart beating so loudly he's afraid everyone else will hear. Blaine swiftly stands in front of Kurt, holding him back with an arm, because he knows these boys.

Stoner Brett stands with his gun pointed at them along with other loners. The video game geeks. The repressed and closeted homosexuals. Those people that were always alone, now standing together, some with uneasy expressions and others with smiles. Jacob Ben Israel peeks his head out from behind the group, looking at Rachel with wide eyes, his own gun hanging limply in his hand.

"Look whose back," a boy, Mark, smirks.

Kurt stares uneasily at the closest gun to them, seeing it tremble slightly in Stoner Brett's hands. Except he doesn't seem so stoned today. Today his eyes are clear and he swallows, gripping the gun tighter.

"Hey guys, stop this. I'm _like_ you," Blaine says carefully, raising a steady hand and taking a step toward the angry boys. "We went through the same thing."

"We're not the enemy," Kurt calls, stepping up beside his boyfriend.

The gun falters.

"Put the gun down Brett," Blaine pleads softly.

"No!" Another boy, Josh, shouts, raising his gun and training it on Blaine. This one doesn't tremble. "We went through the same thing but you didn't help us. You left us like everyone else. You didn't do anything. You didn't say anything. You're just as bad as the rest of them!"

Blaine stares at the boy, stunned into silence. Kurt steps closer, eyes blazing. "Can you even hear yourself?" he asks incredulously, "He couldn't do anything! You _all_ left each other."

"You! _You_ have the nerve to speak to _us_?" Josh snarls, moving the gun and pointing it at Kurt's heart, which beats rapidly in his chest. "You. You taught us all to be free and be ourselves and LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED! And then you leave and never come back and leave us all here to suffer the consequences. We were fine before you opened your mouth and changed this place," Josh hisses through his teeth with an accusatory glare, "_You didn't even know._"

"I'm sorry." Kurt whispers. "I'm here now, I know now. We can change things."

"No, no, NO!" Josh shouts,his face contorting, his eyes flashing. Insanity is written all over his features as he laughs. And he speaks clearly, with a confident smile on his face, "Everyone has to pay."

He pulls the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the air.

Crack.

Within the span of a second a million thoughts flit through Kurt's mind. But primarily it's Blaine squeezing his hand. _We're going to be okay. _

_We're going to be okay. _

Kurt crashes to the floor.

[

[

[

**TBC **

**Don't kill me. **

**Thanks to Ishy for being a fantastic beta and putting up with my ridiculousness. **

**Please review! They mean so much honestly, and are so helpful as I try and figure out which way to go with the story. Thanks for reading! Hugs! **


	7. Inhale

…

**I'm sorry. *retreats into small corner, holding up this chapter as a peace offering* I'm late, I know. Just been a crazy couple weeks. And I'm pretty sure by beta's been kidnapped by a weeping angel. Let's hope the Doctor can get her back to me. But, I have a week off starting tomorrow so fingers crossed I can get some writing done in advance so this doesn't happen again. **

**So how are you all surviving the hiatus? Do you still have hope for Klaine? Am I putting off the chapter because its unbeta'd and I'm worried about what you'll think? Certainly. But I've already kept you waiting long enough. So here's the next chapter (drum roll please). **

How could you describe the sound of a breath?

The soft vacuum of an inhale. It's sharp. And cold. And now it is slow as Kurt feels his lungs slowly inflate with oxygen. The breath stays there until there's a tightness in his chest, but he doesn't exhale.

Blaine hand had slipped from his own. A hard shove had sent him crashing to the floor, pain jarring up Kurt's shoulder from the force of the fall. There were sounds of confused cries and protests. Kurt had shaken his head, trying to unscramble his thoughts.

He rises to his feet slowly, but as his eyes widen in shock and he feels his body sinking to its knees again, hands hovering over a figure at his feet.

Blaine is curled up on his side.

The world is muted, but Kurt can faintly hear screams behind him, some lingering shots that racket against the lockers and ceiling, and the scuffle of fleeing footsteps. He's frozen. He can't function, he cannot possibly comprehend.

And it's all horribly familiar.

But so, so much worse.

There's a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, and a voice is murky, calling to him, "Kurt. Kurt. We have to get him out of here. They'll be back. Kurt."

Kurt exhales, the exiting air rattling in chest and up his throat. He watches as his shaking hands softly touch Blaine's side, the body strong and warm beneath his hands. Trembling¸ he gently rolls Blaine onto his back, hearing his boyfriend groan and choke in pain.

His eyes trace up Blaine's body and linger on the growing stain on his left side. There is red spreading on the white linoleum and as Kurt adjusts Blaine, his fingers brush against it. It's not cold. It's not icy. It's hot and warm.

He can hear stifled sobs behind him. "Oh my, oh my god." It's Rachel.

The world rushes back and Kurt watches a large hand cover the dark stain, pressing down firmly. He hears Blaine cry out.

"You're okay Blaine, you're okay," Finn is saying as he stares at the warm blood as it stains his hands and seeps out through the gaps of his fingers.

"Stay with us dude," Pucks orders as he strips off his button down and adjusts it over the wound. The grey t-shirt beneath it is stained with small scrapes of red when Puck wipes his hand on it.

Kurt's eyes move up to Blaine's face hesitantly and he sees him nodding weakly, biting his lip, face screwed in pain. "I'm alright, I'm fine." He chokes. His chest rises and falls heavily, his breathing labored. "K-Kurt?"

"I'm fine baby. I'm right here." Kurt replies softly, moving to cradle Blaine's head in his lap.

Blaine's lashes flutter as hazel eyes look up at Kurt, "Hi."

"Hi there, silly boy," Kurt whispers. His fingers tremble as they stroke Blaine's cheek.

Finn exhales, looking up from the blood on his hands and trying to refocus. He has to be strong. Be strong. Be strong. Be strong. "We need to go guys, find a way out."

"Finn there's no way out dude, we've tried."

"I don't care Puck! We have to get Blaine of here or he'll…. he'll… we need to get him help. Or at least find someplace to hide. We don't know why they left but sure as shit we need to go somewhere. We can't stay here."

Kurt nods slowly, leans down to shakily to kiss Blaine on his sweaty forehead before asking him softly, "Can you move sweetheart?"

Blaine nods quickly and sucks in a breath, trying to control his breathing, "I'm fine, Kurt."

Kurt just sighs and shakes his head before beckoning over Finn. Together, they help Blaine to his feet. Involuntarily, Blaine shouts in pain as he is lifted, eyes squeezing shut. The sound rips through Kurt's body.

He never thought he'd have to hear it again.

The four move through the halls, Blaine between them. Rachel moves ahead, tears still tracking down her face but her jaw is set, eyes moving rapidly as she scans the halls for any danger.

There are gun shots ahead and Rachel turns sharply, leading down them down another passage way. But there are screams this way and the group back tracks. Blaine is quiet except for the occasional groan, and Kurt's eyes flit between the growing stain and his boyfriend's pale face.

"We need to go faster," Puck says, shaking his head as he stumbles, almost slipping on some blood. There are drag marks where a body must've been only minutes earlier. Soon, Kurt forgets where they're going, letting his friends lead him down the hallway. Because there's Blaine's arm slung around his shoulder, gripping him tightly. There's Blaine, Blaine, and Blaine and he can't focus while seeing his Blaine in so much pain. He winces as he hears the small cries and gasps, heart squeezing cruelly. He can hear the drip of Blaine's blood as it seeps through the shirt and down onto the floor.

Drip.  
Drip.  
Drip.

After a bit, Kurt hears less of the gasps and more drips. He sees Blaine's eyes fluttering closed, head lolling slightly as most of his weight is being lifted.

"Come on, almost there," Finn whispers.

The school is eerily quiet. The hallways empty, except for backpacks dropped in panic, and papers scattered across the floor. Papers that keep you up all night, for maths or history. An essay scribbled together in the early hours of the morning. All meaningless. All forgotten and left fluttering on the pale floors. Everything that seemed to matter so much doesn't seem to matter at all.

"Go, go, go," Puck orders softly, stepping behind Blaine and pushing the small of his back, urging him forward. Blains groans but blinks his eyes and forces himself forward, stumbling slightly. Finn and Kurt pull him up and they continue. Go. Go. Go.

But after a couple more steps, Blaine falls, his chest cracking sharply against the hard floors, making him cry out in pain and cough. Kurt and Finn instantly pull him to his feet, Kurt biting his lip.

"We need to rest," he says quietly and he hesitantly pushes through the doors to a small classroom. "Just for a second." It's dark, quiet, and empty. Kurt ushers the others inside and quietly closes the door behind them.

They all lean against the wall, breathing deeply. Kurt and Finn gingerly situate Blaine, and Kurt supports his head on his lap.

"I'm sorry," Blaine gasps, "Just need a second… I'm fine."  
Sweat trickles down his face despite the cool air conditioning, and his tan face is pale. His chest rises and falls sporadically, breaths stuttering past his lips, which bleed from being bitten so much. His eyes are closed and after a minute Kurt whispers to him.

"Blaine. Look at me."

No response.

A little louder, but still quietly to avoid being heard by the gunmen stalking the halls, Kurt shakes Blaine gently, panic rising through him. "Blaine, open your eyes. Blaine, Blaine! Look at me. Please, please open your eyes."

Blaine groans and his eyes slowly flutter open. Kurt sighs in relief. "K-Kurt…"

Kurt sniffs, forcing a watery smile onto his face, "I'm here. You have to stay awake for me. Keep those beautiful eyes open for me."

Blaine nods and looks up into Kurt's eyes and they capture him like they always do. His hazel eyes are dark and he stares into Kurt as if he can see through him and into him. A gaze so intense and familiar, Kurt can barely hold it. But he does. "That's it," Kurt whispers.

He's faintly aware of Finn and Puck moving, readjusting Puck's shirt over the wound and tightening it to staunch the bleeding. The hazel eyes disappear as Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, face contorting in pain. "He shouldn't be bleeding so much," Puck whispers, barely audible.

But Blaine's eyes flutter open again so Kurt can't focus and listen to Finn's reply. "Hey that's it, you're doing great baby. Stay with me, just stay with me. Talk to me."

Blaine clears his throat and he struggles to speak, "Don't worry about me," He says hoarsely, "You're not going to get rid of me so easy. I made a promise remember."

Kurt smiles, "And what did you promise?"

"To always love you, to defend-" Blaine takes a stuttering breath, "- you, e-even if I know you're wrong. To surprise you. To always…" His eyes flutter shut again, face screwing in pain as another fire lights across his nerves. He breathes heavily for a bit before forcing his eyes open again. "To always answer your phone call, no matter what I'm doing. To b-bake you cookies at least twice a year and to k-kiss you wherever and whenever you want." He continues softly, "But mostly, just to make sure you remember how perfectly imperfect you are."

"You remember."

"Every word. And Kurt…"

"Yes Blaine?"

"I mean it. And I'm sorry-"

Kurt shakes his head, unable to stop a few tears from spilling over. "No no we're not doing apologies now. You're going to be okay. You're okay. You're okay." He bends down and kisses Blaine's salty lips impossibly gently, just ghosting across them. "You're okay." He mutters, staring down into Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes.

They sit quietly for long, fleeting moments. There are no gunshots cracking. There are no more screams being uttered. All that's left is silence.

After a while, Blaine closes his eyes and says weakly, "Kurt… I'm cold."

Kurt swallows and just strokes his pale face tenderly. He looks up at the others, eyes shining but jaw set, "We need to get him out of here."

Everyone nods and then Blaine's being lifted to his feet again. He's too tired to protest. Hesitantly, they step out of the small room and back into the hallway.

The door, heavy, slams shut behind them, a resounding crash echoing through the halls.

Shit.

They all wince and quicken their pace. The main entrance is at the end of the hallway. The main entrance with its glass, sliding doors. Glass, sliding doors that can be shattered by a hurled chair. It's a way out. It's a way out and that's all that matters. Just go, go, go.

They all freeze as a figure steps into the hallway in front of them, a dark gun raised, pointed at the small, exhausted group.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He demands, walking up to them, his face frantic. Panicked. Afraid.

"Please… We have to get him out, he's hurt." Kurt whispers.

The teen shakes his head and jabs at the air with the gun. "The school's on lockdown!" His voice cracks as he yells.

Puck steps forward hesitantly, arms raised. "I know but if we don't get him out of here, he's going to die."

"I'm uh…" His eyes flit between Blaine and the bloody shirt tied across his torso and the gun in his hand.

"Please."

He stutters for a second, gun trembling slightly in his hands. "I can't… I can't!"

Rachel forces a smile, "Yes you can… You don't have to do this. Just let us go. Just drop this. Leave with us. Don't worry about the rest of them."

"I can't stop. I can't take this back," he chokes. He digs his fists into his eyes before readjusting the gun, pointing it at the group. It shakes violently in his hands. "I can't. The school's on lockdown! You can't leave! You can't!"

Her smile falls, "Why are you doing this?" she asks, throat thick.

"You're Rachel Berry right? Star performer of the Glee club, Nationals champion and all that bullshit. What's my name?"

Rachel looks at the others, eyes despaired.

"LOOK AT ME! What's my name? WHO AM I?"

"I don't know," she sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Blaine looks up weakly, "It's Collin. Collin Thomas. We're in… We're in Superhero sidekick club together. Do you remember?"

Collin hesitates before nodding, the gun jerking back and forth, his eyes wide.

"Collin… Why are you doing this?"

"We're doing it because we so sick of this. Sick of being hated, or unnoticed, or bullied. No one knows we exist. No one cares. No one does anything. This is the longest time I've spoken to you ever," he stutters, voice trembling slightly, "And it's only because of the gun in my hand."

Finn speaks softly, "Look man I'm sorry this happened to you, but it's only high school, it gets better…"

"Bullshit. Why does everyone ever say that? These are days of my life that I'm never going to get back. You can't give them back to me."

"We didn't take them from you…"

"Exactly! All of you just sit around and ignore it. You forget about everyone else and focus on your little club. You worry about the next big game, or your next Sectionals, or…or whose going to be Prom King and Queen. Or what you're going to wear when your boyfriend who'd forgotten about you finally comes to visit. And you ignore everything else. And you leave us."

"I'm sorry… " Blaine chokes, guilt flooding his eyes.

"No! It's too late for that now! It's too late!" He yells, jerking the gun to Blaine's direction. Blaine slackens in Kurt's arms, defeated.

Kurt reacts instantly, launches himself in front of Blaine, twisting his body around him so his back is to the shooter, holding him tightly in his arms. Blaine's curls are damp against his neck as his head lolls slightly on Kurt's shoulder. He breathes in little pants, a small pool of dark scarlet sliding onto the hard floor, the liquid hot and sticky as it seeps through Kurt's jeans. Kurt holds his hand up in protest as he tries to shield Blaine from Collin's crazed eyes. "Please don't," he whispers frantically, looking at Collin over his shoulder, voice cracking as he tries to speak a little louder, "Please don't hurt him."

Collin bites his lip, shaking his head and pulling his gun back, digging its hilt into his forehead, as if he needs to try and hold his head together. The teen looks like he's falling apart, and he roughly fists away a tear that trickles down his cheek. He looks so lost and confused.

But Kurt only pulls Blaine closer into his body, feeling his heartbeat against his chest. He doesn't even look at the shooter behind him, because the most important thing is Blaine in his arms. And he has to keep him safe. God knows he's failed. But he has to try.

The group stands in silence, before Puck, after taking a look at Blaine sagging slightly in Kurt's protective arms, steps forward. "Forget this, we need to get him on of here. Look, just let Kurt take Blaine out."

Collin looks up and with trembling hands straightens the gun, pointing it at Puck. "NO! The SHOOL IS ON LOCKDOWN!"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. He's DYING COLLIN!" Puck yells back.

"Stop telling me what to do! STOP!" Collin chokes brokenly, his voice ending in half a sob. "Stop." He puts his finger on the trigger.

"Wait, Colin don't shoot!"

Surprised, the group spins around and sees Josh with two other boys striding towards them. All wear haughty expressions, guns slung over their shoulders much too comfortably. They're enjoying this. "Don't shoot. There's a SWAT team outside and if they hear a gunshot they'll come in. As long as the situation is static they won't. We talked about this remember?"

Collin nods his head jerkily and he lowers his gun. "What are we going to do with them?" He asks, voice soft and uncertain.

"Just put them with the others in the gym. Come on people let's move."

The group simply stays.

Josh snorts and lifts his gun, the two boys behind him mimicking his action. "Move," he orders.

Kurt looks up at him, eyes pleading. "Josh, please, please let Blaine go. This isn't fault. He's not going to last. You can be better than them, let him go."

But Josh only stares down at Kurt and speaks, voice cold and flat, "Move."

…**Don't hurt me. YOU ALL ASKED ME TO MAKE SURE KURT WAS OKAY, NOT MY FAULT. I DID THIS FOR YOU. You got what you wanted, Kurt is physically fine….. You can't be mad at me so HA. (never thought to worry about Blaine did ya did ya)**

**Anyways please, please tell me what you think! Review, message me or something (my tumblr is aslytherinindistrict12 if you want to contact me that way). It honestly means the world to me. It really does and gets me going. And I'm really looking forward to hearing what you have to say! I promise you that it affects my decisions about the story, and what way I should go. It's my goal to try and get you to enjoy this, and it's a challenge trying to tailor it to your likes. Let me know how I'm doing. **

**Oh and if you have time, could you please message Ishy and send her some love? Here on fanfiction she's ayearafterklaineoccurred and her tumblr is darrentweededafan. Anything, no matter how short. Anything would be awesome. Please do this for me. I'd actually prefer you did that than review. **

**Once again, I sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting so long. And for any errors in this chapter, I did my best to edit it on my own. Eeep I'm trying my best! Hope you're still sticking around! I'll try and have that next chapter up as soon as I can. **

**Thank you for reading and please review! Hugs! **


	8. Red and Blue Lights

**Happy Halloween everybody! **

**Here's a little treat for you! This chapter was extremely difficult to write for some reason and it took me longer than usual. So it comes to you unbeta'd. But I did my best to edit it and use past criticisms and I think it turned out just fine. **

**But I'll let you be the judge of that. **

**WARNING: ****Violence and mild gore. Proceed with caution if that bothers you. **

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Glee. If I did, the New Directions wouldn't be performing Op Gangam Style during Sectionals.**

* * *

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you past."

"My sons are in there," Burt snarls, trying to shove his way through the barrier of policemen. To tear past the yellow tape and run up the stairs to the school and look for Kurt. And Finn. He just has to make sure they're safe, that they're okay. It's his job. And he can't do it from the sidelines. "Let me through!"

An officer strides over, taking in the scene before speaking calmly, "Sir, we cannot let you into that building right now. I understand you are worried about your child's safety-"

Burt shrugs the some of the policemen off him, straightening his baseball cap as he glares at the officer, "If you won't let me, why don't you all do something? Why are we just waiting here?"

"Sir, as of now, the situation is static. We can no longer hear guns being fired or any commotion at all. If we enter that school right now, we may startle the gunmen and who knows how many more lives will be lost. The hostage negotiator is on her way, and hopefully we can solve this as quickly and safely as possible. Can you let us do that?"

Burt hesitates for a second before asking carefully, "But what are you going to do if the gunmen start up again? Are we just going to leave those children to die?"

"Of course not, the minute we hear a single gunshot, I'll give the order for my teams to enter. I promise. We know what we're doing Mr. Hummel."

Burt nods briskly and turns away, walking back to where the other parents stand watching and waiting. Carole squeezes his shoulder reassuringly when he approaches, but her eyes glitter in the red and blue lights. Hearts thud, hands clasp together tightly, and breaths quicken as each minute passes. There are sounds of arguing somewhere, but Burt just shuts his eyes and holds Carole tightly against his chest.

"They'll be okay," he whispers to her, "They'll be okay."

* * *

It had felt like a punch.

A powerful punch to his gut. He was okay. Just a punch. But then the warm stickiness was trickling through his shirt, matting it uncomfortably to his skin. He'd closed his eyes because he didn't want to really see what the others saw, to see the damage, to see what it was. Didn't want to make the reality that he'd been shot something tangible. But he did eventually, only to see Kurt's blue eyes watery and terrified.

And he had stayed awake. Blaine Anderson had fought those tendrils of black creeping into the corners of his eyes and his mind.

But there was running. And moving. Conversing voices. Kurt was holding his tightly in his arms and he'd felt his legs turn to jelly and the weight that was being put on him just kept getting heavier. And heavier.

And Blaine Anderson was getting too tired to fight those tendrils anymore.

Blaine exhales slowly as he feels Kurt press their foreheads together. He can feel his breath, smelling faintly of mint as it always does, brush against his lips. His eyelids flutter, he can hardly keep them open. Kurt's cool finger slides gently across his sweaty cheek. "Blaine," he whispers, "we have to go." Just the thought of it makes Blaine's knees weaken, but Kurt supports him. "Hey Blaine," he keeps whispering, "You're going to be okay, I've got you. I love you….."

Kurt's hushed whispers continue but Blaine can't focus. It's getting harder to breathe. His lungs feel like they're running out of oxygen. He tries to inhale deeply, but it hurts and he has to stop.

It hurts to move.

It hurt to breathe.

Stop, stop, stop.

Make it all stop.

A hot iron scorches his left side, burning from the inside. The dull throbbing from his ribs spikes as he takes a step and breathes. Every inhale hurts in his chest. He closes his eyes as he tries to find a breath again. But his lungs hardly inflate. It's like they're squeezing, constricting him tightly, making him a prisoner within his own body. Breaths are agonizingly painful and terribly short. Every one is like a knife twisting in his lung. He coughs, and wishes he hadn't as one cough sparks another and another and his body is ignited with the most excruciating pain he's ever known and it inks spots onto his vision.

His world seems to get erased, his vision disappearing quickly as his body catches up with what has happened. His eyes shut and he loses track of the world around him, sinking into darkness.

Reality appears in blurry, rapid flashes.

Being lifted into arms. Finn.

He's weightless.

Burning in his side.

Kurt holding his hand tightly. He tries to squeeze back but reality slips away again.

His eyelids flutter.

Kurt.

The squeak of shoes against the floor.

Pain.

Kurt isn't holding his hand anymore.

The splash of air as a door is thrown open.

More voices now.

He's getting set down. The floor is cold. There are gasps around him. Blaine tries to open his eyes, but he can't.

Kurt is talking to him. He can't understand what he's saying.

Kurt.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

And then nothing.

* * *

"Blaine! Blaine!" Kurt yells. No need to be quiet anymore. The gym is crowded, people talking and sobbing. The floor is littered with splashes of blood. They are all seated, crouched into the floor, trying to make themselves smaller targets. The gunmen walk between the groups, some confident, others not so much, fiddling with the firearms in their hands. But nothing matters anymore. Because Blaine's in his arms, and his eyes won't open.

"Blaine, please," Kurt faintly realizes that he's crying and he can't stop the tears from streaking down his cheeks. "Blaine. Wake up. Please, please wake up." His voice cracks, as he whispers to the boy in his arms, "Don't leave me."

Mercedes has a hand on his shoulder, "Shh boo. He's just asleep," she hushes gently, unable to stop a tear from trickling down. "He's just asleep, Kurt. He's okay. Just asleep."

Kurt tightly cradles Blaine's limp body in his arms and leans his head back against Mercedes. She rubs her hand in soothing circles across his back.

Everyone's exhausted.

Rachel still presses her hand against the wound, trying to staunch the blood flow as much as possible. Even in the emotional and physical exhaustion that makes Kurt's world a haze, he manages to be impressed by her diligence and her determination, two of the best qualities of Rachel Berry.

Minutes tick by. The room quiets as each minute passes, until there are only hushes whispers, silent cries and gasps, low groans of pain. At one point Josh yells into a phone before stalking out of the gym, leaving the alert staring after him with confusion.

And still, the minutes tick by.

Tick.

Tock.

An hour passes.

And then another.

Finn has taken over from Rachel, pressing his hands firmly against the large stain on Blaine's body. Kurt's arms haven't weakened their hold on him so he can feel instantly when Blaine shifts.

Kurt blinks in surprise and looks down at his boyfriend's pale face. He groans softly and Kurt strokes his curls gently, past caring about the sweat, blood, and remnants of gel that stick to his fingers. Blaine groans again, and Kurt looks around cautiously, eying the gunmen with apprehension. "Blaine, are you awake babe?" he whispers.

Blaine only groans again, his eyes fluttering open. Kurt's heart surges at the sight of his boyfriend's beautiful hazel eyes, and he smiles softly.

Eyebrows twitching in confusion, Blaine's eyes flit around the room, or at least, as much as he can see of it. He doesn't understand what's happening. He opens his mouth to ask Kurt, to make sure Kurt's okay, that everyone's okay, but he can't find enough air to whisper, let alone speak.

But reality comes crashing down violently when he remembers the gunshots in the school. The chained doors with no way out. The gunmen.

Panicked, he tries to sit up but Kurt holds him back, pressing him down gently. With a concerned look painting his face, Kurt hushes him, "Don't move. You're okay. We're okay now. I'm here."

Blaine exhales softly and winces as he tries to move his head. The burning pain is almost gone, replaced by a constant ache all over his body that increases with each passing second. He can feel the hot blood on his body, sticking to his skin, making him uncomfortable. Instead, he tries to focus on Kurt stroking his cheek softly, his fingers like ice against his burning skin. Blaine closes his eyes softly, but opens them again every so often, to make sure that Kurt's still there.

Kurt smiles at that, and bending down, he whispers softly in his ear, "I love you-"

There's commotion in the room and Kurt straightens out, sharp eyes glancing about the room, narrowing at the source of the problem. Tom, one of the football players has suddenly stood, his hands wet with the blood of his girlfriend. He looks distraught but angry, and Kurt bites his lip. This can't be good.

"So what's your plan?" Tom snaps to Jacob Ben Israel, who tries to appear menacing with the gun in his hand, but fails pathetically. "Is this it? What do you plan to do? Just keep us here for the rest of your lives?"

Jacob eyes Brett worriedly, who starts walking over slowly to help, but Josh gets there first.

He smiles, "Is there a problem, Tom?"

Tom swallows but continues, rage clouding his judgment. "You're all cowards! You think that doing this is going to make you brave? It isn't. Let us go. Don't pretend you know what you're doing. You're all still children pretending to be men."

"We know what we're doing," Josh snarls.

"No you don't."

"Tom, shut up," one of his teammates orders, reaching to pull him down but Tom just shrugs him off.

"Look, I'm sorry for anything we did to you. But this is just high school. Get over it. You still have the rest of your lives. Just let us go, and maybe the cops will let you off easier. Don't be stupid."

"We're not stupid," Brett growls, moving to stand beside Josh, "And we're not getting over it. You all have to pay-"

"Haven't we paid enough? Look around you and see what you've done!"

Josh straightens out and glares up at the football player, "NO! You ruined our lives. People actually will notice now. They will actually do something. And if we have to kill you assholes to save ourselves then fine."

"So is that your plan? Just kill us all? Then what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Do it."

"Tom, sit down," a Cheerio hisses.

Tom just laughs, "No, I'm not. They killed Becca. They killed so many. And they're just cowards. They can't do anything now, if they wanted to kill us they would have done so already." Looking proud at his intelligent conclusion, Tom stands taller, looking down at the two gunmen. The two losers. "So what are you going to do now? You gonna shoot me dweebs?"

Josh looks down at his shoes, before looking back up, a grin plastered onto his face as he speaks matter-of-factly, "Yes."

And with that, he fires his gun into Tom's chest, the Cheerios around him screaming as the football player falls like a rock onto them.

Kurt tightens his hands around Blaine's body, cradling him tighter to his chest. Blaine's eyes flutter open, concerned at the commotion, and Kurt mumbles reassurance softly into his curls. But inside his mind goes into overdrive.

Shit, shit, shit.

Soon after, all hell breaks loose.

Screams rattle against the walls as the windows shatter and the doors come crashing down. Helmeted men with bullet proof vests come rushing in, ushering the students nearest to the doors outside to safety. Gun shots ring out, snapping the heavy air into small pieces.

Like the rest of the New Directions and the other students, Kurt hits the floor instantly, covering Blaine's body with his own. Blaine cries out in pain from being jostled, but Kurt only presses down on him tighter, flinching whenever a shot rings above them. Blaine's breath comes in shallow pants against his neck, his ribs aching at the pressure of Kurt's body on top of him. Worry for his boyfriend claws at his dissipating consciousness, but he can't move. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on breathing and the feeling of Kurt against him.

_Please, let it stop, let it end. _

Kurt's hand finds his boyfriend's, and he laces their fingers together, squeezing Blaine's hand tightly, the familiar gesture relieving some of the tension in Blaine's body. _We're going to be okay, _the gesture whispers, _we're going to be okay. _

Kurt can feel Blaine's rapid heartbeat underneath him as the gunshots get louder and closer, and he pins Blaine tighter to the floor, heart squeezing guiltily at the younger boy's small cry. Kurt shuts his eyes, trying to control his breaths to reassure Blaine, but it's a lost cause as Blaine can feel Kurt's body trembling with fear. He squeezes Blaine's hand tighter.

Underneath him, Blaine feels the fire that scorched within him flare up again, its tongues licking the insides of his battered body. The painful ache grows and grows, with the pressure on his chest making it harder and harder to breathe. But he dare not move or struggle in fear of Kurt getting caught in the firefight up above. Soon, the black tendrils return, and he fights futilely to bat them away. The excruciating pain paralyzes him and he squeezes his eyes shut, tilting his head back against the hard linoleum. Blaine can faintly feel Kurt kissing his exposed neck softly, just a whisper of intimacy in the deafening world around them.

Kurt feels Blaine's grip on his hand weaken until it falls away, but he still grips his limp hand tightly, as if letting go will make Blaine disappear.

And Kurt can't lose his Blaine.

Because Blaine is the lightning to Kurt's persistent storm, that staccato beat to his soprano call, his sunshine when the world turns dark, the little flame that dances beside his own, and Blaine is every flickering star that glitters in Kurt's mundane and uncertain world. Blaine is everything Kurt has ever fought for, and even as the world tumbles down around them in a haze of smoke and thunderous noise, he's never going to let him go.

Kurt hardly notices when the world above him quiets before there are arms tugging him gently to his feet, ripping him away from Blaine. Shaking his head violently, he struggles against the officers that pull him back. "Son, the paramedics will take care of him. But we need to give them room to work and get to the wounded. Come on."

But Kurt can't. He continues to struggle, "No, no, no, I'm not going to leave him alone again. No!"

"Come on Kurt," Finn says into his ear, voice strained, his hands tight on his stepbrother's shoulders. With Puck's help, he's able to lead Kurt away.

Kurt tries to control his breathing, wiping away the tears that pour down his cheeks. He gasps for air as he sees his hands stained with Blaine's blood. The crowd of students all around him walks in various stages of shock and grief. Suddenly the group thins and Kurt stumbles forward through the doors of the school. Through the doors and into the world of flashing red and blue lights, calling voices, loud sobs, and blaring sirens that wait for him.

And as Kurt steps outside, the fresh air striking his face sharply, he looks around but can't seem to focus on anything. The world falls into a blur, the cacophony of sounds orchestrating a symphony of silence.

* * *

**I would like to take a quick second to thank Writing Memories for her help with this chapter and the previous one. Was suffering from a horrible case of writer's block, and she recommended I watch an episode of One Tree Hill that featured a school shooting, and I took her advice and it certainly helped me create the atmosphere and personalities of the gunmen. So, much gratitude to her! **

**Also, just wanted to say how incredibly grateful I am to every single one of you. Thank you so much for reading. Honestly. You're all lovely. And for every reviewer, gosh I hardly know what to say. Makes my day every single time. Literally. Thank you so so much. **

**I'm going to start replying to anonymous reviewers at the end of every chapter. So if you did, check out my response below! **

**To everyone else, thank you so very much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed the chapter and continue to enjoy the story. I'll try and get that next chapter up as soon as possible. Please please review and tell me what you think! **

**Have a fantastic day/night and have a happy Halloween!**

**(PS. Did you see the horizontal lines! I FINALLY learned how to format on this thing. YAY FOR PROGRESS. Yes, it did take me so long. I suck at technology okay? Credit to my sister for teaching me how!)**

* * *

**Replies to lovely nonnies: **

_**Guest:**_** I most certainly can kill Blaine. And I can most certainly save him. But I'm afraid we'll need to rely on the doctors and paramedics on the case. Let's hope he's not too seriously hurt. I'll keep my fingers crossed ;)**

_**Froufrou l'Ours: **_**Well everyone said "not Kurt"! No one had specified anything about Blaine so I assumed you gave me permission… (not really, I just love messing with you all so much, I'm horrible I know but gosh it's wonderful)**

_**Rachel:**_** Haha you're adorable! I'm mean, that I am. Whoops? And I'm sorry this made you cry sweetheart. If it's any conciliation, sometimes I make myself cry while writing the chapters! And I'll take your request to keep Blaine alive to heart…. but it may be too late. We shall see…. **

_**Chelsea:**_** I know you didn't review last chapter but I don't think I didn't see your previous reviews. They are greatly appreciated, love. **

**THANK YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH FOR READING AND REVIEWING YOU ARE ALL INCREDIBELY FANTASTIC I LOVE YOU ALL **


	9. The World's Burning, Darling

**Hello everybody! **

**I'M SO SORRY for the delay! Life has been insane and the stupid words wouldn't get on paper! Thank you so very much for your patience and sticking around! You're all lovely! **

**So, I'm not going to keep you any longer. Quick note, I wrote this chapter with **_**I Won't Let You Go Darling **_**by Hedley in mind. It's a beautiful song and very fitting. Give it a listen! **

**WARNING: (going to put this here just in case) Well, there's not too much, not like the past chapters. But there are descriptions of blood so consider yourselves warned. **

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Glee. But those past episodes… ouch.**

* * *

Burt scans the faces of the students that are stumbling out of the school. All around him parents are running to their son or daughter and holding them tightly, laughing and crying. There are worried calls all around. Paramedics are rushing into the school, laden with stretchers and supplies.

It's finally ending.

Burt takes a hesitant step forward as he sees a tall head of mussed chestnut hair exit the school and stand, looking around at the scene, looking lost in this sea of action. Kurt. His eyes widen as he sees blood splattered all over his son's clothing, worry clenching his heart. But then Kurt finally turns and recognizes him, his stumbling steps turning into a clumsy run as he barrels into his father's arms. Burt blinks back his own tears as he gathers his little boy in his arms.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Burt demands, his voice strained with concern.

Kurt nods against him, burying his face into his father's neck, sobbing heavily.

Burt hushes him and rocks him back and forth, rubbing his hand in soothing circles across his back. "You're safe now, you're okay," he whispers, "I've got you, I've got you."

Kurt just clings to his father, trembling, burying his face against Burt's shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of rough flannel against his cheek and his father's warm scent of apple pie, motor oil, and a hint of cologne.

Burt just cradles him close, tears pricking at his own eyes. He swallows and looks up to see Finn wrapped up in his mother's arms. "Are you okay bud?" he asks,voice rough.

Finn nods, still looking shell shocked. Burt narrows his eyes, concern for his two sons growing with each minute. But at least they're safe. At least they're fine. Physically at least.

They're alive.

Suddenly, a voice rises out from above the crowd.

"Where's my son?" Mrs. Anderson calls as she rushes to the huddled family, her husband on her heels. Her eyes are wide as she recognizes Kurt and she asks again, her voice increasingly frantic, "Where's my son? Where's Blaine? Kurt? Whyisn't he with you?"

Burt looks between and Kurt and Finn with confusion. He's assumed that Blaine was with his family. His heart drops as he feels Kurt stiffen in his arms. Finn looks down at his feet before looking over his shoulder at the paramedics racing into McKinley.

His heart continuing its plummeting fall, Burt speaks carefully to Finn, tightening his arms around his shaking son, "Where's Blaine?"

Finn opens his mouth but Kurt is the one who speaks, his voice hoarse and cracking at every word, "He was… He was shot." Carole claps her hand over his mouth and the Andersons just look at Kurt in shock. Swallowing, Kurt continues, staring at the patterned plaid of his father's shoulder, struggling to find the words, "The paramedics made me leave him. I didn't want to but they made me but he's okay, he's going to be okay-" a sob takes over his speech and he begins to cry again.

He can't seem to stop crying.

Kurt can feel everyone's eyes on him but the world is spinning and he can't seem to make it stop. His own words reverberate in his mind: _He was shot, he was shot, he was shot_. He clings to his father, trying to get a wavering grasp on reality because everything seems to incredibly unreal. It can't be real. It just can't.

Dimly, he can hear the Andersons asking more questions and Finn wearily answering them. Then they disappear and take their place among the other parents waiting anxiously for their children. Kurt can't bear to look.

_I didn't mean to leave him. I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm so sorry._

The tears soon slow as the worry in his heart increases, flaring up higher and higher. He has an incredible urge to turn around. To see what's happening in the school. But he's afraid of what he'll see.

There are gasps, sobs, screams, and shouted questions emerging from the crowd and Kurt needs to see what's happening. He moves to pull away from his father but Burt just holds him tighter, constraining him in his arms. "Don't," his father mutters softly, voice firm.

Kurt looks up at him, eyes wide. He pulls away with more strength this time and his father lets him. He spins around and freezes in shock.

Ambulances have pulled up next to the steps. Paramedics rushing inside the school. But the first wave of paramedics are beginning to steadily trickle out of the doors, stretchers carried between them. Some figures sit up and wave tiredly to their parents. Others are unconscious. Others are encased in black body bags.

Kurt stumbles forward. One step. Then another. It's a fight to get himself to move, to get his body to cooperate with his mind. He feels as if he's wading through jelly. The air seems hot and thick around him, pushing him back and trying to make him stop. But he doesn't. He keeps walking forward, arms outstretched to keep his wavering balance, like a gymnast on a thin balance beam.

Around him the world is active and buzzing. It's one of those moments where everything is vibrant around you, and you get lost in it all. But you can't focus on anything, so nothing makes sense. You're just there. Lost in a haze of sound and color. Your thoughts flitting about your mind. And the only thing Kurt can cling to is a name. Blaine.

He sees the paramedics walk out, another stretcher laden between them. A girl is strapped onto one and carried into an ambulance. He sees bright pink nail polish and even brighter clothes. Sugar.

Other paramedics set down another body on the steps of the school, cradled in a black bag. They cannot take them to hospital yet because the ambulances are needed for the wounded. So they are lined up, looking exceedingly small. Smaller than they should be.

Kurt continues his fight forward through the crowd. He needs to look into those black bags, and see whether the love of his life is cradled inside one. He wants to see if his lips are still warm, or if they've already gone cold.

But arms in front of him block his path, and arms behind him pull him back. "Blaine!" Kurt calls out with a strangled cry. "Blaine!"

The officer blocking his path looks down at him, speaking sympathetically. Kurt shakes his head. He doesn't understand what he's saying.

"I've got him officer," Burt assures quietly, drawing Kurt away firmly. Kurt allows himself to be led, feeling boneless.

"Dad… I have to see. I have to make sure he's okay. It's all my fault."

Burt puts his hands on Kurt's shoulders and looks him squarely in the eyes. His little boy's blue eyes are glazed over slightly, blank and unfocused. Burt shakes him slightly, to rattle him out of his reverie. "Kurt. Look at me. _None_ of this your fault, you understand me? None of it."

Kurt just squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. "You don't understand Dad," he says quietly, "He- he jumped in front of me."

Burt freezes and inhales sharply. Internally, his heart squeezes, conflicted. Relieved that it isn't Kurt, terrified that it could've been Kurt, and devastated that it's Blaine. He exhales before speaking carefully, "Listen bud, Blaine made his own choices. I'm sure the paramedics know what they're doing. He'll be fine. Now, if you promise to do whatever I say, then we can go wait for him to come out with the others? Can you do that for me?"

Swallowing, Kurt straightens up and nods. He has to be strong. For Blaine.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."

After looking at him skeptically for a moment, Burt nods and with an arm tightly wound around Kurt's slender shoulders, they move to stand beside Finn and Carole. The family wraps their arms around each other and they watch the proceedings with growing apprehension.

Kurt begins to feel nauseous as the minutes tick by. Every possible, horrible scenario flits through his mind. He sways on his feet and Carole squeezes his hand soothingly. The line of bodies begins to grow. The amount of stretchers being loaded into the ambulances growing as well.

Tick.

Tock.

Kurt feels tears begins to prick his eyes again and he swallows, setting his jaw. He looks up for a second, trying to gain his composure. The empty feeling in his stomach grows and his heart feels like it's in a free fall. _How is this happening. It can't be happening._

_Just breathe. _

Then Burt suddenly tightens his grip on his shoulder and Kurt's eyes instantly look back at the school. A group of paramedics are carrying a stretcher out, some jogging beside it. Heart caught in his throat, Kurt recognizes the figure and he almost collapses.

Blaine.

Unconsciously, he takes a step forward but Burt holds him back. Everything else spins out of focus except Blaine. His beautiful, brave, brilliant Blaine. He lies immobile on the stretcher, skin pale, eyes closed. Kurt can't even tell if he's breathing. But there's an oxygen mask strapped to his face and a neck brace supporting his head. His shirt has been ripped out of the way, and Kurt's face contorts in pain as he sees the large, bloody trauma pad being pressed into his bare, bruised skin. The paramedics jog quickly into the ambulance and load him inside.

"That's my son!" Mrs. Anderson shouts. A paramedic runs over, his hands and light blue uniform streaked with Blaine's blood. She looks at him and speaks frantically, "He's my son! Can I go with him?"

Breathless, he says, "Sorry ma'am, but we're not going to have any room. Feel free to follow behind in your car. We're taking him to St. Rita's Medical Center."

"Is he okay?" Mr. Anderson asks.

The paramedic is quiet for a moment before speaking quickly, "It's really too early to tell sir. Now if you'll excuse me," he turns away and jogs back to the ambulance. The doors slam shut and with lights flashing and sirens blaring, it pulls away.

The groups stands in a shock for a moment before springing into action. Kurt, although already exhausted, sprints the fastest to the car. The Andersons leave the lot first, followed close behind by the Hudson-Hummels.

Once in the car, Kurt realizes his hands are clenched tightly in fists, nails digging into his palms. He relaxes them gently and looks down at them. Blaine's blood has dried and has caught under his nails. He tries uselessly scrape it off but it clings to his skin. Kurt knuckles away a tear.

Tearing his gaze away, Kurt looks out the window, trying to focus on his breathing. He exhales and leans his head against the cool glass of the window. He tries to keep his mind blank but pictures of Blaine sweep across his mind. Blaine laughing. Blaine smiling. Blaine crying. Blaine dying. Kurt closes his eyes and gets a grip on himself. Determination bubbles up in him. He doesn't care. Blaine _will_ be okay. He _will_ get him back. A song runs through his head and he focuses on its beats and sings the lyrics softly in his head. Because words give Kurt strength. And lyrics are simply beautiful words.

_And even if it sounds crazy, darling _

_I won't let you go _

_And even if it don't ever stop raining, darling_

_I won't let you go _

_And even if the world's burning, darling_

_I won't let you go_

_Even if it sounds crazy, darling. _

_I won't let you go. _

* * *

**TBC**

**Thank you for reading! Those lyrics at the end are from the song I mentioned at the beginning. **

**Huge thank you to my beta Ishy (ayearafterklaineoccurred/darrentweededafan on tumblr) for her edits! (And listening to me complain about the writing process) **

**I shall try and have the next chapter up as soon as I can! And you'll get some more closure then… (I am dragging this out, aren't I? I'm sadistic, can't help it) **

**Hope to see you back here! Please please please review and tell me what you think! Hugs!**

* * *

**Reply to anonymous reviewers: **

_**Chelsea: **_**Sorry for making you cry love! (not really) (maybe a little). Sorry for making you wait! I'll try to get the next chapter to you quicker. Fingers crossed! **

_**Guest: **_**Wow thank you! My writing isn't amazing, really. It's all smoke and mirrors sweetheart! But the compliment is greatly appreciated thank you so very much! And I honestly so thrilled you're enjoying the story so far! YAY! **

**Thank you so much for reviewing! It really does mean the world, make my day, and help immensely! If you have any questions, concerns, comments, criticisms, or thoughts don't hesitate to let me know! LOVE YOU ALL! Really, I do. **

**Have a wonderful day x **


	10. Walking With Your Eyes Closed

**Hello everyone! **

**Here's the next chapter! It's taking me so long to update for some reason and I apologize for that. This chapter is a little lengthy, so grab a snack and enjoy. I'm not entirely pleased with it, mostly because I've been super critical and unhappy with my writing for a couple weeks for some unexplainable reason. However, both my beta and my sister looked it over and said it was good, so I'll stop obsessing about it. Tell me what you think!**

**There is some hospital speech and stuff in the chapter. I did probably an excessive amount of research to get it right, but I did take some creative license and everything probably isn't accurate in that sense. So keep that in mind! Sorry if that bothers you. **

**I'd also like to take a moment to thank you all very much for your support. This story has reached 100 reviews as well as passed 10,000 reads and I'm very flattered, stunned, and shocked. You're all wonderful. You guys are breaking my emotions I hope you know. I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH **

**I won't keep you waiting longer. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Glee. If I did…. Well, I have nothing positive to say about Glee right now. I'd stop watching but I've already sold my soul to Klaine. Oh well.**

* * *

There's something about walking with your eyes closed that's extraordinarily fascinating.

Everything is black and you feel weightless. You can't walk straight and you wobble on your feet with your arms outstretched, like an actor before taking his final bow. It should be freedom, this blissful ignorance of your environment.

Instead it's frightening. You become hyper aware of every little thing around you, from every sliver of a sound to every brush of wind against your skin. Every little detail highlighted but every large picture irreparably blurred. You can make sense of none of it. And we all fear what we cannot understand.

If you're familiar with that feeling, then you'll know how Kurt Hummel feels as he steps into that hospital and into the crowded ER. His eyes may be wide open, but they are irrefutably closed.

Because Kurt's been here before. He has stepped through the sliding doors of the ER, felt that hospital smell strike his face with the cold air-conditioned air. He's stepped inside and gotten lost in the rush of noise and people. He has been here twice before. But both paled to this. Because the first time was for his mother so long ago, but he had been prepared for that. His mother had been sick for a while. The second time was for Blaine. But that was nothing and that time he had Blaine in his arms. Now he doesn't. And that little detail is especially evident.

He walks over to a small plastic chair in the corner and sits, head in his hands. He knows enough about the ER to know that he'll have to wait. So he allows the adults to run up to the front desk and ask. He just can't right now. The world is spinning so fast and he can hardly keep up.

Finn takes a seat next to him, and after a couple of minutes he is aware of the other Glee kids sliding in beside him. The dysfunctional family huddled together, with two members notably absent. Rachel reaches to take Kurt into a hug but he shakes his head. He needs air to breathe, and breathing is so remarkably difficult.

A couple of nurses bustle about, asking quick questions and checking over the teenagers for signs of injury or shock. Kurt answers all her questions blankly and allows her to perform the tests she needs. And then, with a quick reminder to stay hydrated, get some rest, eat something, and seek a psychologist for help if need be, she moves on to the next person. Kurt buries his head back in his hands.

An hour passes. And then another. Kurt drains a bottle of water and eats a granola bar, and slowly feels his strength returning. He rises and joins his father, who stands with Carole with the Andersons in silence.

"Any news?" Kurt asks quietly.

Burt shakes his head but Kurt notices Mr. Anderson glaring at him.

Kurt narrows his eyes and straightens, striding over to Blaine's father, "Do you have a problem?" he snaps.

"Actually I do," Mr. Anderson replies curtly.

"Not now-" Mrs. Anderson says softly, putting a hand on her husband's arm.

He shrugs it off, still glaring at Kurt. Kurt is satisfied that they're of equal height. "Why are you here? Didn't you leave? Why are you still here corrupting my son?"

Kurt raises his eyebrows incredulously. "_Corrupting_ your son? He's not gay because of me. If you really loved him, you'd know that."

"You're the reason he's here. He wouldn't be in that school if it wasn't for you," Mr. Anderson spits.

"He wouldn't even be here if you'd known what was going on with your son!"

"There's nothing going on with Blaine."

Kurt steps closer, eyes sharp as diamonds, "There's 'nothing wrong' with him? You didn't know that he was being bullied? That your son's body is covered in bruises? Or did you add some of those yourself?"

"How dare you even suggest-"

"Then why didn't you know! You were right here with him!" Kurt's voice rises.

Carole steps between the two men, "Not now," she says crisply, "And certainly not here."

The two nod reluctantly, still staring at each other with unmasked loathing. Kurt eventually turns away, exhaling. He can feel Mrs. Anderson staring at him in shock, can imagine her eyes tearing up. But he ignores her and instead of feel sorry for her, he resists the urge to hit her. She should have taken care of him. She should have known.

They all should have known.

_You should have known, _a small voice hisses in his head.

_He should have told me¸_ Kurt snaps back, his subconscious at war.

Kurt rubs his eyes and looks back up at the doors. Waiting for news.

And miraculously, as Kurt thinks this thought a doctor approaches the group of students. Kurt rushes over to the rest of the Glee club and their parents, and the huge huddle looks up nervously at the doctor.

"Are you here for Sugar Motta?" he asks.

Sugar's parents nod eagerly and look up concerned, "Yes. Is she okay?"

The doctor sighs, "I am so sorry to inform you that Sugar Motta passed away during surgery. I am terribly sorry for your loss," he clears his throat as a chorus of strangled cries arises before continuing carefully, "We did everything we could; however, we couldn't revive her. Now can her parents please come with me so we can discuss your options and fill out some paperwork."

Her parents nods tearfully and follow the doctor with arms wrapped around each other.

Kurt blinks away his grief and calls to the doctor hurriedly, "Do you know what happened to Blaine Anderson? Do you have any information on Blaine Anderson? Is he okay?"

The doctor looks at him apologetically before saying blankly, "Blaine Anderson is still in surgery. It's too early to tell."

"Still in surgery?"

"He's had some… complications. I'm sorry but I can't say anything else," and with that the doctor leads the mourning parents away and disappears into the crowd.

Kurt slumps back into his chair.

_He's had some complications._

_He's had some complications._

_Complications._

* * *

"Kurt!"

Kurt blinks and realizes that Finn's shaking him gently. He must have dozed off. He shoots up quickly, swaying from the rush of blood from his head.

"Blaine! What's happening? Has anything happened?"

"Nothing yet but a doctor just called for Blaine's name. Come on!"

Without another word, Kurt runs off toward his father and Blaine's parents and arrives just as a doctor reaches the group, his lab coat crisp and white.

"Are you here for Blaine Anderson?" he asks.

"Yes," Kurt gasps breathlessly.

"I'm pleased to say that Blaine Anderson pulled through surgery."

A chorus of cheers erupt from behind them, and the corners of the doctor's mouth twitch up before he continues, "However, his condition is still critical and still not completely stable. We are extremely lucky that the bullet missed any major organs or arteries. But he did lose a lot of blood so he's had to have a blood transfusion. Unfortunately, Blaine sustained some other injuries which will hinder his progress and we're very concerned about that."

"Other injuries?" Mrs. Anderson echoes.

"Due to suspected repeated pressure, his sternum is fractured. Once his condition is stable, we're probably going to do a couple of bone scans and determine whether or not he'll require surgery. I also suspect at least three cracked ribs and multiple bruised ones. However, as I said, we're going to need to take a couple of x-rays to know for sure. Right now, we're just giving his body a little bit of time to rest before we continue."

A sharp pain flares up in Kurt's heart, lodging a knife deep within his chest. "How long do you suspect he's had these injuries?" Kurt chokes.

"The injury to the sternum was most likely inflicted in the past 24 hours, but the damage to the ribs may have been accumulated over weeks."

Kurt squeezes his eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore the gasps from those around him.

The doctor looks around before speaking slowly, "Because of damage to his chest area, Blaine's goes to experience some difficulty breathing so we've got him on a ventilator just in case. He'll also be hooked up to a morphine drip to help with the pain in addition to some other painkillers. Because of this stress, heart problems may occur. But we're monitoring him closely and will inform you if anything changes."

"Where is he now?" Mr. Anderson asks. His voice is businesslike. Kurt wants to smack him.

"The ICU. He'll most likely be there for a couple of days, depending on his progress."

"When can we see him?"

"The waiting room is open from 7:00am to 10:30pm. However, visitation hours are limited to 9:00am to 6:00pm, and 8:00pm to 10:00pm. You can go visit him during those times if you adhere to some guidelines. Unfortunately, visiting hours have already closed."

Kurt looks at his watch and balks. It's already 11:30 at night. He'd hardly noticed the night falling, the day was such a blur.

_Only a day,_ Kurt thinks, _it's felt like a thousand years wrapped up in a minute._

"We'll allow one person to say overnight with him."

"I'll stay." Mrs. Anderson whispers, her voice hoarse.

"Alright. As for the rest of you, I suggest you go home and get a good night's sleep. You'll need rest. Now, Mrs. Anderson if you'll come with me."

Blaine's mother moves to follow the doctor but she hesitates, turning back to Kurt.

"Kurt?" she calls quietly. He can hardly meet her eyes and only glares at the floor, shuffling his feet. "I'll call you if anything changes. I promise." Kurt nods, still looking at the clean tile beneath him.

The footsteps of the doctor and Mrs. Anderson echo as they walk down the hall and the swinging doors close behind them with a swish. Kurt stands in silence for a moment, focusing on breathing while the crowd around dissipates slowly around him.

A warm hand grips his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "Let's go home Kurt."

"I can't leave him. Not again. Can't leave him alone in this place."

"He's asleep, he won't know."

"I don't care. I can't leave," Kurt says, staring blankly ahead.

Burt sighs, switching tactics, "Kurt, his mother is with him. You can't stay here, and you need to sleep. What use will you be exhausted? I promise that we'll come here tomorrow the minute the ICU opens," Burt speaks quietly, urging his son, "Come on bud, I don't want to lose you. Can you listen to me please?"

After a minute, Kurt nods reluctantly and allows himself to be led away.

And when he finally gets home, he runs down to his room and rushes into the bathroom. His reflection stares back at him with blank eyes, his rumpled hair sticking out in every direction. The stranger in the mirror has too pale skin and bruises under red rimmed eyes. There are dark brown stains crusted onto his shirt and pants, and Kurt studies them in horror before looking down at his hands, where Blaine's blood has dried under his fingernails.

Quickly, Kurt turns on the tap and scrubs his hands. Brown stains trickle down the white basin, foamy suds turning darker. He scrubs furiously but it still clings to the insides of his fingernails. He scrubs until his hands are rubbed raw and sting sharply.

He doesn't realize that's he's crying until he feels the salty flavor of a tear on his bitten lips.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" Burt asks breathlessly, suddenly appearing in the doorway, face painted with concern.

Kurt hesitates before shaking his head, "No," his voice cracks.

Burt sighs before stepping forward and wrapping his son tightly in his arms. Kurt feels his knees weaken but Burt holds him up, his body eventually relaxing in his father's arms. He sobs into the rough flannel, clinging to Burt tightly.

"How didn't I know?" he chokes, gasping for air in between each painful sob. "How did this happen?"

Burt shushes him, "It's okay, Kurt."

"It's not."

"You're alive. Blaine's alive. That's all that matters now." Burt pulls back and swipes a calloused thumb over Kurt's cheek, wiping a tear away, "You'll see him tomorrow bud. I promise. He'll pull through."

Kurt sniffs, "How do you know?"

"Because I just do."

Despite everything, Kurt lets out a short, watery laugh.

"There we go," Burt smiles, "Now go shower and get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow. It's going to be okay Kurt, I promise."

Kurt nods and hugs his father, "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Kurt. Now goodnight."

And in spite of it all, after a long hot shower and a fresh pair of pajamas, Kurt falls asleep, tangled in warm blankets, his mind shutting down and letting sleep envelop him in safe arms.

* * *

The next morning passes quietly. A silent breakfast and car ride nothing but long, hushed moments between small words.

The ICU waiting room is empty. They're the first ones there. Time ticks by as they wait for visitation hours to open and then, just as the hour hands slides to nine, Mrs. Anderson steps out, followed by a nurse.

"Come on Kurt," she beckons softly. She's had a sleepless night.

Kurt rises and follows her into the ICU. The nurse is telling him about rules but the words melt together until they're as meaningless as a constant buzz in his ear.

The floors are white, and reflect the fluorescent lights that shine onto them. The walls are light blue, and the whole room seems crowded but vastly spacious at the same time. Windows let in gentle sunlight from the far end.

Mrs. Anderson disappears behind a curtain, and Kurt can see the foot of a bed peeking out. He freezes, and suddenly feels like his eyes are closed again. The steady beeping accompanied by the repeated gasps of the ventilator bleed into Kurt's consciousness as he approaches slowly. Holding his breath, Kurt steps past the thin curtain, wide eyes landing on the prone figure on the bed.

Blaine's long lashes are closed, the ventilator mask covering most of his face. His expression is emotionless and empty, and he lies impossibly still. Kurt is suddenly struck by how unbelievably small he seems in the bed, surrounded by the giant, whirring machines. The white sheets lie in sharp contrast to his tan skin, even when he seems so much paler than usual. He isn't in a hospital gown, but white bandages wrap across his bare torso, a light blue blanket tucking him in. Various wires and tubes disappear through the bandages and criss-cross around him.

Unable to take his eyes off his boyfriend, Kurt stumbles closer, collapsing into a seat beside his bed. He studies him in silence for long moments, taking comfort from the steady, constant beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that Blaine's heart still beats, even if Kurt's seems to have stopped.

Cautiously, Kurt reaches over and takes Blaine's limp hand in his own. He rubs it with his thumb, not daring to squeeze it too tightly, in fear that it could break into shards of glass. Blaine seems so fragile, like a porcelain doll in a world of machines. Tenderly, he reaches down and presses his lips to the warm skin. With a pang, Kurt realizes that Blaine doesn't smell like raspberries anymore.

"Blaine," Kurt chokes, "I'm here. Now _please_, wake up."

* * *

**And there you have it! Cruel place to end it, but I've already started Chapter 11 so have no fear. Except I'm currently mourning the recent news from one of my fandoms and I'm still going through the six stages of grief so that'll hinder my progress. As well as the ridiculous workload I have for school. **

**I'm estimating that we have only 3 chapters left, maybe one or two more if I split them up…. I'd originally intended it to be a 10 chapter fic, but there are still some loose ends to tie. I'll try and get that next chapter to you as soon as I possibly can. **

**A quick thank you to my beta Ishy for betaing (I've almost got that comma problem down hallelujah) and also to my sister who read it over. She's ladywarlock here on fanfiction and is writing a brilliant Mergana fanfiction called **_**Raven's Darling.**_** It's beautiful and her writing is absolutely stunning (makes me look bad I tell ya) so if you're part of the Merlin fandom you should definitely go check it out. **

**Thank you all for reading and for your patience. I love you. Really, I do. Please please take the time to review. Every single one is appreciated so much and I'd love to hear what you think. Any questions, concerns, requests, I'd love to hear them all. I promise to reply. **

**Thanks again! And till the next chapter! Hugs!**

* * *

**Replies to anonymous reviewers:**

**Guest:**** Yes, I love Klaine angst stories as well. And likewise, I just can't read break up fics. NO CAN DO. And thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far! **

**Amelia:**** askdjnaskdjksadkasjdsd THANK YOU YOU ARE TOO SWEET AND NICE YOUR CAPS LOCK IS CONTAGIOUS **

**Guest:**** I DIDN'T LET HIM DIE! I hope you are pleased :) I don't think I could have even if I wanted to. **

**Chelsea:**** Haha I know since that's the entire point but I don't know what else to say! Would you prefer I laugh at your misery? :p Thanks for your continued support and reviews, love! **


	11. Hey There Blaine

**Hello there! **

**The holidays are rapidely approaching, along with what seems to be a beautifully Klaine Christmas. So I'm going to extend my seasonal greetings now: happy holidays everybody!**

**I have some announcements to make at the end of the chapter, but I'll just leave that till the end. So without further ado, I present to you Chapter 11! **

* * *

The top of Blaine's hand was soft under Kurt's thumb. Glittering blue eyes study the sleeping boy's every feature, from the dark circles under his eyes to the sweeping lashes against his cheek. His tan skin seems colorless and exhausted under the white hospital lights. But it's still Blaine.

Kurt presses his chin against the cool sheets, looking up at boyfriend where he lays motionless, nestled into the pillow. If he stares hard enough, he can make out the gentle rise and fall of his chest with every breath. The ventilator exhales repeatedly with a hiss, but Kurt has grown accustomed to it as well as the beeps and other assortment of sounds in the ICU.

"Come on Blaine," he whispers for the thousandth time, "I love you."

A pang of guilt strikes him. And not for the first time. If only he'd said it earlier. Why did something have to go wrong in order for Kurt to tell his boyfriend that he loved him and needed him and cherished him more than anything?

A soft hand taps Kurt's shoulder, and he flinches away from Mrs. Anderson's touch. She looks down at him, regret and apology glazed into her eyes. "It's time to rotate visitation, Kurt."

"Can't I stay?"

"Only two are allowed at one time. Cooper just arrived from the airport, and he wants to see Blaine. And it's already 1:00 now; you should probably go get something to eat."

Kurt nods, too emotionally exhausted to argue. He rises and reluctantly releases Blaine's limp hand. Reaching over, he presses a gentle kiss to Blaine's forehead, letting his lips for a second before finally pulling away. "I love you," he murmurs against his skin.

He straightens out and clears his throat, "You'll call me if anything changes?"

"I will."

Kurt tears his eyes from Blaine turns away, quickly walking out of the ICU. He hears the screams and sobs from a family beside him as a sheet is pulled over a figure on the bed. His heart constricts.

He sighs in relief when he exits. The waiting room is crowded with people but he can make out Cooper pacing urgently back and forth. After a second, Cooper looks up at him and strides over. His clothes are rumpled and his hair is tousled but he seems alert, despite the exhaustion riddled within his features.

"Is Blaine okay? Is he alright? Can I go see him?"

"Last bed on the left," Kurt instructs. His voice seems detached. "The nurses inside will tell you the rules."

Cooper nods and moves to doors, but hesitates for a second, squeezing Kurt's shoulder, before rushing through the doors.

Kurt watches him disappear; his gaze landing on the little white sign beside the doors. The ICU sign swims in his vision. Blaine shouldn't be there now. He should never be there.

A sigh escapes his lips and he winces as he rolls his shoulders. _He's alive, that's all that matters now,_ Kurt thinks to himself, _he's alive._

"Kurt? You want to go grab something to eat?" Finn asks hesitantly.

"Where's Dad?"

"He'll be back. He just needed to go check on something at the tire shop."

Kurt nods, "Alright let's go."

They make their way down to the cafeteria, winding through the labyrinth of white hallways and busy staff. He pauses at a window, catching sight of the press, with their nosing cameras and dark vans. He had almost forgotten that the incident made national news. All he was concerned about was Blaine.

He's still only concerned about Blaine.

With a deep breath, he turns rapidly away from the window and continues walking briskly down the hall, trying to separate himself from the reality of what had happened.

_Forget everything else. All that matters is Blaine. _

_All that matters is Blaine. _

The brothers reach the cafeteria and take a seat at a white table in the corner after grabbing a blueberry muffin and some juice.

The food is tasteless. Kurt wonders whether it's due to the quality of the food. Or maybe he's just not functioning properly.

The two eat silently until Kurt makes out a familiar tune. He looks up and sees a small television in the corner, the CNN logo flashing across the screen.

"Welcome back ladies and gentlemen," the announcer speaks, her voice clear and solemn, "We continue our coverage of the McKinley High School tragedy, where 23 students were killed and many more wounded-"

"Could you please turn it off?" Kurt asks quietly to an attendant, staring at his half eaten muffin. The attendant only looks at him blankly.

Kurt looks up, eyes flashing, "Turn it off!" he shouts.

The attendant hurriedly fiddles with the remote and switches it off, the small screen turning black.

"Kurt?" Finn asks concerned.

"I just don't want to hear about it more."

Finn studies him quietly before speaking again, "It's going to be okay."

Kurt rolls his eyes, "Look, can we just leave? I want to go back and see Blaine."

Finn nods and drains the last of his juice, before rising and following Kurt out of the hall.

* * *

When they finally arrive back at the ICU waiting room, Kurt finds everyone outside. Even Mrs. Anderson. He looks at them in shock, "What are you doing? Why are you leaving him alone?"

Burt shushes him, "It's okay Kurt. The doctor just took him to get those bone scans done."

Kurt's shoulders slump in relief, "Has he woken up yet?"

The group shake their head and Kurt bites his lip in concern.

Minutes trickle by, like grain of sand dripping through an hourglass one at a time. Kurt paces the clean floors impatiently, trying to control his breathing.

Finally, the doctor arrives. Kurt is the first to reach him, "What did you find?"

"Well, Mr. Anderson is very lucky. Most of the fractures and breaks are clean so he won't require further surgery." Kurt sighs in relief, and doctor continues, "In total, he's got a fractured sternum, one broken rib, three fractured ribs, two bruised ones. I understand this may sound severe, but I meant it when I said we were lucky. There is no treatment apart from painkillers and rest. A lot of rest. The bones will heal themselves over time. In fact, after his stitches heal up and we can get him breathing on his own he should be good to leave and continue his treatment at home."

Kurt can feel a smile spreading across his face, almost uncontrollably. The doctor smiles in return before addressing the group seriously, "Pain relief will be important, as it will hurt every time he breathes or coughs. Taking shallow breaths and avoiding coughing will only put him at risk of a chest infection. We'll tell him all this, but you'll have to remind him. He'll experience some discomfort, but we can control the pain a bit by giving him some over-the-counter medication like paracetamol or ibuprofen. Also, to reduce pain and swelling you can put an ice pack onto his chest. You'll have to encourage him to breathe deeply and let his lungs inflate fully. Don't wrap a bandage tightly across his chest, as this will stop his lungs from expanding properly. I'll prescribe a narcotic," he explains, "as the pain will be severe at night. Also use painkilling gel to rub into his chest at the very end of the sternum, where most of the discomfort will originate from. Other than that, he'll just need time. Any questions?"

"When do you think he'll wake up?"

"That depends on him. He's physically exhausted and looks a bit sleep deprived so I wouldn't be too concerned about the excessive sleeping. We're letting up on the sedatives, so he'll probably be awake in an hour or two. But we'll see."

The smile doesn't leave Kurt's face. _He's going to be okay, he's going to be okay, he's going to be okay. _

Kurt could just dance.

Then after a quick conversation with the adults discussing insurance and prescription, the doctor left and Cooper and Mrs. Anderson vanished into the ICU.

Kurt now alternates between sitting down and pacing tirelessly. And then suddenly, it's 10pm and neither have emerged. His heart plummets as the nurse announces the end of visiting time.

But then, Mrs. Anderson and Cooper merge, Mrs. Anderson holding her oldest son close, her eyes red and swollen. "Kurt?" she asks hesitantly, "Would you like to stay the night with him?"

Kurt looks up in disbelief, "Really?"

Mrs. Anderson nods and before Kurt can stop himself, he's wrapping her in a hug.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"I'm sorry too," he replies.

She smiles up at him, "Blaine's lucky to have you. Now go!"

Kurt returns the smile gratefully and rushes into the ICU, not focusing on anything but his destination and the last bed on the left. When he finally sees Blaine, he freezes, his brain trying to accommodate to what it was seeing, despite how very wrong it all is.

They've dressed Blaine in a hospital gown and the ventilator is smaller now, only a couple tubes running from his nose and mouth. In fact, the number of tubes in general has decreased. Or maybe Kurt has just gotten used to them.

Holding his breath, Kurt pulls in a seat and sits close to his boyfriend, tenderly reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly.

He leans over him slightly, brushing his forehead gently with his other hand before singing softly, a small smile gracing his lips, "_Hey there Blaine what's it like in Lima, Ohio, I was a thousand miles away, but boy you look so pretty, yes you do,"_ Kurt chuckles despite himself, continuing his whispered song, voice lilting softly, "_Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true. Hey there Blaine don't you worry about the distance. I'm right here if you get lonely give this song another listen. Just open your eyes, listen to my voice it's my disguise. I'm by your side." _

Kurt giggles and then after ghosting another long kiss to Blaine's pale forehead, he sits back down, clutching his limp hand with his own hands. He presses his lips to Blaine's hand sits, and whispers, his eyes stinging, "I'm right here."

After a while, Kurt gets tired of a silence only broken by the gasps of ventilators and the beeps of machines. Everyone around him in the ICU is asleep or quiet. He begins to speak softly, "Do you know how I missed you? When I got here and finally saw you, god," he smiles to himself, squeezing Blaine's hand, "And then all of this happened and everything just got lost to in this whole mess. I hope you know that all I've wanted to do is keep you safe. Do you know that I went to Principal Figgins' office and threatened him? I just didn't want to see you in a hospital again…" Kurt's voice trails off and his smile falls slightly, "That worked out well didn't it?" he whispers.

Kurt looks up at his boyfriend's pale face, blue eyes bright in the dim lighting of the ICU, "I'm so sorry Blaine," Kurt's voice cracks, the breaths trembling in his throat, "I am so, so sorry."

Swiftly, Kurt wipes off a stray tear that slips down his cheek. "I love you," he whispers, almost inaudible.

Hours pass, Kurt alternating between sitting in silence, studying his boyfriend, or murmuring quiet stories and words into the hush.

He rests his head against the cool sheets, sighing, studying their clasped fingers. Suddenly, he feels Blaine's fingers twitch.

Kurt's head shoots up and he leans over Blaine, caressing his face tenderly, "Blaine honey? Are you awake?"

Blaine eyelids move for a second and then suddenly he blinks sleepily, his hazel eyes glazed slightly. They look sightlessly for a moment but then they catch Kurt's anxious gaze. Recognition flutters through them and Kurt can't help but let out a small laugh. He claps a hand over his mouth but then instantly returns it to Blaine face. He feels Blaine squeeze his hand weakly in return.

"Blaine," Kurt gasps, "You're going to be okay. You're doing so good honey. I love you, I love you, I love you," he whispers, voice cracking slightly as he tenderly strokes Blaine's forehead with his thumb.

Blaine smiles softly, focusing his eyes on Kurt. His eyelashes flutter, as if his eyes are struggling to stay open.

Kurt wipes the happy tears from his face and smiles, "Shh it's okay, go to sleep, I'm right here. You're okay. I'm right here."

Blaine's hazel eyes disappear and then his breaths deepen. Kurt presses a kiss to his forehead, the smile refusing to leave his lips.

* * *

**TBC**

**I promise you'll get some more Klaine next chapter. Some parts will be so fluffy, you're going to die (Despicable Me anybody?) **

**If you didn't know, Kurt sang a bit of _Hey There Delilah _by The Plaine White T's which was lyrically mutilated by your friendly neighborhood fanfic writer (that's me). **

**ANNOUNCEMENT TIME. So, in like 2 days I'm flying out to the United States (Ohio to be exact) for the holidays. AND THERE'S GOING TO BE COLD AND HOT CHOCOLATE AND SWEATERS AND YAY. I am so excited, you have no idea. I really need some rest, this couldn't have come at a better time for me personally. **

**But it actually couldn't come at a worse time for this fic. I've officially decided to end this fic at 13 chapters. The only way I could extend it is if I decide to split Chapter 12, but that will depend on the length of Chapter 12. We shall see. But yeah, WE ARE APPROACHING THE END EVERYBODY. However, you'll get one more plot twist before the end, that much I can promise. What it will be... well... you shall see. All you have to know is that it has to happen. **

**Anyways, regarding my trip. I'll have sporadic internet access. I'm going to use my ridiculously long flight time to write, and hopefully finish. But no guarantees. Even if I finish, that doesn't mean I can post it. So forgive me if there's any delay. I'll do my best. Your wait won't exceed 2-3 weeks. I promise that, but, that's as specific as I can get. I'm sorry! **

**So that's it. Just wanted to keep you guys up to date on the status of the fic. Thank you all so very much for your support. Much gratitude for my beta Ishy for betaing. Also to WritingMemories, who sent me some fanart and lyrics to a song she made for this fic that I'll share at the end. And to every single reviewer, followers, favoriter, reader. Just...aaksdjnaskjd. THANK YOU SO MUCH. **

**As we are approaching the termination of the fic, I'd love it if I got to hear what you think. If you want to see anything happen in the fic, or if you have any questions or concerns or whatever, YOU HAVE TO TELL ME NOW! Please please review. It doesn't take that much time and it honestly means so much. **

**Thank you all so very much and happy holidays! **


	12. The Probability of a Happy Ending

**Hello everybody!**

**I'm thrilled to see that we haven't all perished at the hands of an apocalypse. For those who celebrated it, I hope you all had a very happy Christmas, and to all, a wonderful New Year. **

**I just want to take a quick moment to say something serious. With the contents of this story, I just thought it would be fitting for me to mention recent events. It seems that all we hear about on the news are people losing their lives tragically. The school shooting in Connecticut shocks, saddens, and horrifies me, and my support and deepest condolences to all those affected. People continue to slaughter each other (children, no less) on almost every corner of our planet. Frankly, the knowledge that we will be inheriting this world terrifies me. Honestly everyone, stay safe. **

**Now, time for your chapter! You've waited long enough. Warning, this come to you unbeta'd, but I've been editing it obsessively so it should be fine… (fingers crossed, I did my best honest) Also, this chapter contains copious amounts of fluff. Consider yourself warned. **

**This is a lengthy one so here we go…**

* * *

The rest of the night in the hospital after Blaine had woken up, Kurt had sat crying happy tears and clutching Blaine's hand. Because damn.

Maybe happy ending do exist.

Blaine had woken up again that morning. Just for a little longer. And Kurt had stayed, squeezing his hand the entire time as the doctors and nurses flitted around them. Blaine had fallen asleep soon after, his fingers still tightly laced between Kurt's.

When they finally removed the ventilator, Kurt had watched with his heart in his throat. Blaine had struggled, wincing as he forced his lungs to expand. The doctor kept ordering him to breathe deeper and deeper and Blaine had started crying. Burt had to hold Kurt back, but soon Blaine was able to breathe normally. The room had erupted into explosive applause and Kurt ripped himself out of his father's arms and rushed to Blaine's side, laughing and wiping away his boyfriend's tears with gentle hands. Blaine had only clung to Kurt's shirt, burying his face in Kurt's neck and focusing on his breathing. Kurt wrapped his arms securely around him, rubbing circles between his shoulders through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. "You're okay," he whispered, "You're okay."

Soon after, Blaine was moved out of the ICU and into a room. With no limits on visitation hours, Kurt sat every minute by his side in a small, white plastic chair. Or, when no one was looking, in the bed with Blaine, curling his body protectively around the younger boy, fiddling with his soft, dark curls that lay splayed upon the pillow as Blaine fell asleep nestled into Kurt's chest.

When Blaine was awake, Kurt read to him their favorite magazines, his voice sarcastically judging the words, the outfits, and the gossip, making Blaine laugh, his feet twisting in the pale sheets. Kurt sang him to sleep and never left his side except to use the restroom or when his father made him go home and shower.

And day by day, the number of tubes decreased, the number of bandages lessened, and Blaine slept less. For agonizing moments, the pain debilitated him. But he was getting better at controlling it. And soon he could walk.

Then, one wonderful day, the doctor informed Blaine that he was free to continue his treatment at home. Everyone had laughed and cheered, but when Kurt and Blaine are finally alone later that night when everyone had either fallen asleep or headed home, Kurt's smile slips.

Blaine's drowsy, the sleeping medication beginning to kick in. As he waltzes on the edges of sleep, Kurt slips in beside him and strokes his forehead gently with his thumb, brushing the ungelled curls off his face.

"Are you ready to go home?"

Blaine nods, smiling softly, "I can't wait. My books, movies, pillows...real food."

Kurt chuckles but the concern is still evident on his face, "How's the pain in your ribs and sternum?"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "You always ask that," he teases gently.

"I'm serious, Blaine."

"Still kinda hurts when I breathe, but not a lot. Really, they're fine. But coughing with them is the pits of hell."

"And the... the stitches?"

Blaine yawns, "They're fine. I can hardly feel them. I'm fine, Kurt. Can I sleep now?"

Kurt can't help but smile now. "Come here you," he mutters, leaning in to press a kiss to Blaine's forehead as Blaine snuggles into Kurt's arms.

In moments he's asleep and Kurt watches him carefully. A crease returns to his forehead.

_I'm fine, Kurt. _

_I'm fine._

* * *

The next day, Blaine heads home as planned. Cooper all but carries him into the house, where everything is ready for his arrival. Whether it's blankets carefully laid out on the recliner or Blaine's meds lined up in order on the dresser. Even Kurt's stuff has been moved to the Andersons. Blaine has refused to be without him and Kurt has refused to leave his side.

Cooper has to fly back to LA that evening so everyone gives the brothers some time alone as Kurt calls his dad and updates him.

Mr. Anderson and Mrs. Anderson have begun to sleep in the same bed again, and once they turn in after dinner, Kurt arranges himself on the couch next to Blaine's recliner and they talk in hushed whispers and murmured smiles until they both drift off to sleep.

A week passes. It isn't perfect. It's hard. It's exhausting. But it's fine. They're both okay, which is certainly an improvement, is it not?

* * *

One day, Blaine can't stop moving. He paces around the house restlessly after their early breakfast, sitting down for a second, but then getting up again.

Kurt watches him amused, his finely sculpted eyebrow raised, "Are you okay?"

Blaine spins and looks at Kurt incredulously, "No I'm not! I'm bored! I. Hate. Being. Bored."

Kurt laughs and Blaine throws him an accusatory glare, "It's not funny."

"It is," Kurt chuckles, rising off the couch. "Now don't look so betrayed and go get dressed. Warmly."

"Are we going somewhere?"

Kurt nods, stepping closer.

"Where?" Blaine asks suspiciously, taking a step back.

Finally reaching Blaine, Kurt leans in and kisses him mischievously on the nose. "We're going on an adventure," he says with a wink.

A smile breaks out on Blaine's face and he hurries to his room to get dressed.

Minutes later, the two step outside. Even bundled up warmly, Blaine shivers. The world is still and cold. The skies are painted a pale shade of grey, the canvas splattered with light anywhere the sun shines through. The smell of cold creeps into their nostrils and they both take a deep breath before exhaling, their hot breath turning into frozen smoke as it floats in the brittle air.

"I didn't realize it had gotten so cold," Blaine gasps.

Kurt slips off his scarf and wraps it securely around Blaine's neck, ignoring Blaine's feeble protests. He takes a step forward and then turns around to look at Blaine. He holds out a hand, his eyes asking a question.

Blaine takes his hand, squeezing it tightly. The two walk out into the empty street, fingers laced together.

Kurt leads Blaine to the park. There is hardly anyone, but the silence is beautiful. Blaine moves closer to Kurt until he's leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's arm securely wraps around his waist.

Blaine's hazel eyes are bright as they look around, eagerly taking in the world after what seems like ages. The tree branches are bare and Blaine watches as they stretch elegantly towards the pale sky.

Kurt doesn't notice them. He's too busy looking at Blaine. His heart squeezes as he watches his face, every little thought registering a reaction. The twitch of an eyebrow. An extra star twinkling in those gorgeous eyes. A little twist in his rosy lips. He's so heartbreaking adorable and ridiculously beautiful.

Kurt wonders now he got so lucky. Not for the first time. And certainly not for the last.

Kurt's steps falter and he stops. Blaine turns his head to look back at him in confusion, hazel eyes dancing.

Kurt steps closer and bends down, moving so his mouth is but centimeters from Blaine's, giving his boyfriend time to pull away.

Blaine doesn't.

Their lips meet in a chaste and hesitant kiss. They pull away and Blaine smirks.

With a bright smile, Kurt kisses Blaine's chilled lips again, deep and urgent. Blaine gasps and Kurt slips his tongue in, reaching over and gently cupping Blaine's face and tilting his jaw upward. Blaine buries his hands in Kurt's jacket, clinging tightly to the fabric, pulling Kurt even closer as he sighs into the kiss.

Reluctantly, Kurt pulls away but still holds Blaine tightly against his body. He presses their foreheads together and takes both of Blaine's hands, tangling their fingers loosely together.

Blaine finally opens his eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as he meets Kurt's gaze. His cheeks redden and he laughs breathlessly.

Kurt kisses him again quickly before leading him to a park bench. Blaine sits gratefully. This is the most active he's been for a while.

"I'll be right back," Kurt murmurs against Blaine's lips.

His boyfriend nods and watches as Kurt jogs to the coffee shop across the street. Blaine tilts his head back and stares up at the sky, losing himself in its infinite vastness, the breaths that slip out of his lips adding curls of white to the already pale world.

Blaine doesn't have to wait long for Kurt to return, or maybe it's just that he's too fascinated by his smoky breath to care for the time. Anyhow, Kurt soon returns with a grin on his face and an extra spring in his rapid steps.

His blue eyes twinkle as he hands Blaine a hot cup or coffee. "A medium drip for you and a grande nonfat mocha for me."

"Thank you my good sir," Blaine smiles as he wraps his hands around the cup, feeling the heat permeate out and spread into his cold fingers. With each sip he feels warmer, his body eagerly absorbing the heat. He lets Kurt talk for a while. About Vogue, about NYADA, about this lady with a ridiculous jacket at the coffee shop and I'm serious did she not take a look in the mirror before she stepped outside. Kurt's beautiful voice makes him laugh, and Blaine realizes that it's something he hasn't done in a while. Truly laugh and truly smile. He could listen forever.

They spend hours in that small park, finishing their coffee, walking around some more and kissing some more. The two eat lunch at Panera and grab some bagels for Blaine's parents. It's the first time in months that they've actually been on a proper date and they can't get enough of it.

However, Blaine soon tires. His ribs and chest ache with exertion and he can't seem to catch his breath. Exhausted, he leans heavily on Kurt on the way home and Kurt just pulls him in closer, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulder.

But smiles never once leave their faces.

They walk in comfortable silence through the street, listening to the crunch of the cold grass beneath their feet and holiday bells in the distance. When they finally arrive back at the Anderson house, wrapped tightly around each other, Kurt and Blaine enter the warmth with flushed faces, giddy hearts, and a bag of bagels.

And everything is absolutely perfect.

* * *

Later, Kurt leads a tired Blaine to his room. "Let's watch a movie and then turn in early. How does that sound?"

Blaine nods sleepily.

Kurt laughs, "Alright then. Get changed and then we'll go watch."

Blaine mumbles in assent and Kurt disappears with a smile.

When he returns, he's not surprised to find Blaine still lying down on the bed. Biting his lip in amusement, he puts a hand on his hips, "My, my isn't somebody lazy," he mocks. Kurt slides onto the bed with his boyfriend.

"Tired," Blaine murmurs, eyes closed.

Eyes softening, Kurt moves over him and litters playful kisses over his face. "Come on," he whispers, "Do you want me to help?"

Blaine nods drowsily and Kurt helps him sit up, Blaine's feet dangling off the bed like a child. Kurt runs a hand through his curls, ruffling them.

"You know, I'm really enjoying this whole no-gel thing," he teases.

Blaine frowns, "That's only because there's no humidity. You should see in the summer…" he trails off.

Kurt laughs and then gently pulls off Blaine's sweatshirt, taking care not to jostle him too much, but it's no struggle since Blaine is limp in his arms.

He peels off the layers slowly, unbuttoning Blaine's shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. Kurt purposefully avoids looking at the fading bruises on his body and the white bandage on his abdomen, but they still permeate into his consciousness, making Kurt wince.

He'll never get used to them.

Coaxing Blaine to his feet, Kurt slowly pulls off Blaine's jeans and slides on his soft sweats. He lets Blaine sit back down and kneels in front of him, letting his fingers trace lightly over Blaine's bare side. "How is your chest? Does it hurt? You want some of the painkilling gel?" Kurt asks quietly.

After a second, Blaine looks down at his lap before nodding. Kurt shakes his head in disapproval, tilting Blaine's face up so that he can meet his eyes, "You need to start asking for this stuff Blaine. You have to tell me."

Blaine only bites his lip and nods.

Kurt sighs and kisses Blaine on the forehead, letting his lips linger there, his hand stroking the back of his neck soothingly. He rises and grabs the gel off the dresser before kneeling on the floor. Carefully, he rubs the gel at the end of Blaine's sternum. The gel is cool against Blaine's warm skin, and Kurt applies it thoroughly.

Blaine hisses in pain when Kurt rubs over a sore spot and Kurt apologizes softly. "Don't apologize," Blaine whispers, reaching over and squeezing Kurt's free hand. Kurt looks up at him and Blaine captures his lips in a long kiss, relishing in the feeling of Kurt's soft lips against his own.

They pull away and Kurt caps the gel and returns it to the dresser before helping Blaine slip on his shirt.

Kurt forces a smile on his face, "Still up for that movie?"

Blaine nods eagerly and Kurt helps him to the living room. They put in _Moulin Rouge_ and cuddle up, Mrs. Anderson bringing them a plate of cookies and Blaine's meds before disappearing, giving them some more time alone.

Halfway through, Blaine falls asleep and Kurt switches off the television and scoops Blaine up into his arms. Blaine has lost so much weight over the past couple of weeks, and Kurt feels concern flare up in his heart as he realizes how light his boyfriend is.

Shaking his head, Kurt carries Blaine to the recliner but the dark-haired boy shakes his head sleepily and Kurt looks at the boy in his arms in surprise.

"The bed… with you… I want to be with you…" Blaine mumbles sleepily.

Kurt smiles softly and, still cradling Blaine securely in his arms, carries him to his room, setting him down on the plaid sheets. He seems so small and fragile, and after switching off the lights and fussing with the pillows, Kurt protectively draws him into his chest. Blaine rubs his eyes sleepily, and Kurt watches fondly as Blaine reaches his hand behind him to cling to Kurt's hand. Chuckling, Kurt turns them so Blaine is nestled into the pillows and Kurt is hovering over him, rubbing his thumb over his collarbone. He traces Blaine's features with his eyes, from the inky sweep of his lashes across his cheek to the curve of his lips. Kurt kisses him softly before curling up beside him and quickly falling asleep to Blaine's steady heartbeat.

* * *

That night, Kurt feels the sheets tangle behind him and he blinks awake, seeing Blaine sitting up and gasping, clutching his chest.

Shaking the sleep from his head, Kurt sits up, cautiously moving closer to his boyfriend. Blaine's face is contorted in pain, and his breath emerges in sporadic pants. Kurt softly rubs his back as Blaine struggles to regain his breath, his eyes squeezed shut.

After a couple minutes, nothing improves and Kurt narrows his eyes in concern. He switches on the lamp, and even in the dim light he can see the sheen of perspiration on Blaine's skin. He silently slips out of bed, grabbing a cold water bottle and clean towel and quickly rushing back to Blaine's side. This has happened before.

With the towel, Kurt gently wipes Blaine's face, and Kurt can feel Blaine gradually lean against him. But he's still buckled over, his hands trembling as they clutch onto the front of his thin shirt.

Kurt offers him the water bottle but Blaine shakes his head.

"Blaine honey? Are you okay?"

With a shuddering exhale, Blaine shakes his head again. Tears start to trickle down his cheeks.

Kurt's eyes widen and he instantly reaches up to gently wipe the tears away. "No, honey. Don't do that. It'll be okay. You'll get through this."

"I thought it was better," Blaine chokes, his voice hoarse, "I'm so tired, Kurt. It hurts."

Kurt's heart breaks a little and he moves behind Blaine, allowing the other boy to lean back against his chest. He loosely wraps his arms around Blaine's waist, and Blaine tilts his head back onto Kurt's shoulder.

"Maybe we should revert back to the original dosage of pain killers," Kurt whispers, stroking Blaine's side with light, slender fingers.

Blaine shakes his head quickly, "No, no, I'm so tired of being drowsy all the time," his voice cracks.

"It won't be forever."

"It feels like it," Blaine chuckles humorlessly.

Kurt only kisses his sweaty skin softly. "Go to sleep."

"I can't," Blaine yawns.

Kurt laughs, "Oh yes you can."

Blaine smiles and Kurt kisses his neck again, and cradles Blaine against him until he feels his body relax in his arms. Slowly, Kurt pushes some pillows behind himself to keep himself upright, and after tightening his hold onto Blaine, Kurt finally allows himself to fall back asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt quietly slips out of bed, carefully making sure not to wake Blaine. He watches Blaine sleep for a second before silently stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him with a hushed click.

He sees Blaine's father near the wine cabinet. Curious, Kurt creeps toward him and watches him empty all the bottles into a garbage bag and then carry them outside, catching Kurt's eye.

Kurt follows him outside and smiles as Mr. Anderson tosses the bottles in the dumpster. Mr. Anderson only nods in acknowledgement before heading back inside.

Once Mr. Anderson disappears, Kurt sits on the front steps of the porch and pulls out his phone, dialing his father's number.

Burt answers on the first ring, "Kurt? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Dad… It's just… I need to talk to someone."

"What is it?" Burt asks, his face worried, "Is Blaine okay?"

"That's it. He woke up again last night in a lot of pain. And it's just… It's just I thought things were finally getting back to normal. But they're not and I'm tired…"

Burt sighs, "Kurt, I think you should come home and rest. This is really getting to your head. You need a break."

"No, no. I'm fine."

"Kurt, when people are tired and stressed, they do stupid things. This isn't Blaine's fault-"

"I know it isn't," Kurt snaps. He sighs, rubbing his temple, "Sorry Dad. Anyways, I probably have to go. Talk to you later." And he hangs up without another word.

When he goes back into the house, Blaine is awake and breakfast is on the table. Everyone eats quickly and then Blaine leads Kurt back into his room with a proposition of watching a movie.

He gingerly makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits down. Kurt looks at him concerned.

"Hey Blaine," he asks slowly, "Are you sure you want to watch this movie? You look exhausted. And the recliner in the living room is probably better for your ribs."

Blaine smiles and beckons Kurt over, but his boyfriend still stands uncertainly by the door. "Kurt, I'm fine. Can we please just cuddle?"

Kurt's eyes soften, but he stays where he is. "Blaine, we're not going to do anything that's going to hurt you."

Blaine's eyes narrow, "How is a movie going to hurt me?"

"It's not that. The last time you slept here you woke up crying. The bed is bad for your ribs Blaine. And you hardly got any sleep last night. You should rest."

Blake sighs, exasperated, "It's the afternoon and I'm so sick of sleeping all the time. Why are we even arguing about this? I'm okay."

_I'm okay_

_I'm okay_

_I'm okay_

Kurt shakes his head and throws his hands in the air, something finally snapping, "No. You are _not_. You know, I'm so sick of everyone saying that. That it's okay. That you're okay. That it's all okay. Because it's not!"

Blaine looks up at Kurt in confusion, forehead creasing, "Why are you yelling at me?"

"Because I'm so tired! Of all of this! I'm tired of seeing you hurt. I'm tired of seeing you cry. I'm tired of sleepless nights and nightmares of what could have happened. I'm tired of imagining you bleeding in my arms and then remembering that it isn't my imagination. I'm tired of the news. I'm tired of the pitying looks. I'm tired of remembering what happened. None of it should have happened. We should have had some sort of warning. Someone should've known, someone should have said something-"

Blaine interrupts, voice soft, "What are you saying?"

Kurt looks at his expression and widens his eyes in realization "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

Blaine looks stung, "Do you think this is my fault? That I thought this could happen?"

"No, but-"

"Do you think that I haven't been spending every second thinking of what I could have done -"

"You could have said something!" Kurt interrupts, voice rising, the emotions in the room almost tangibly sparking, crackling, and catching fire, "You could have told your parents! You could have told me!"

"I tried!" Blaine yells, "But you wouldn't answer your phone!"

Kurt looks down at him in shock.

Blaine swallows and then continues, staring at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but Kurt, "There were times when it was just too much and I just wanted you here. I wanted you to tell me everything would be okay. But you wouldn't pick up, and when you did, you never cared about what I had to say. You couldn't even help me pick out a bowtie. I was so _alone_," he whispers, voice rough. Blaine shakes his head slowly, wringing his hands "If-if I had known that this would have happened I…. I didn't know that there were more people getting hurt. It was just me after-school, nobody else-"

"But you were getting hurt," Kurt whispers.

"I don't matter."

Kurt's heart breaks and he takes a step forward. All he wants to do is hold Blaine. He regrets all of this. This shouldn't be happening. "You do matter."

Blaine scoffs, eyes flashing, "You certainly made that clear when you thought New York was more important."

Kurt straightens, his eyebrows creasing, "Why are you making this my fault?" he snaps angrily.

"Because you keep making it mine!" Blaine shouts, his voice cracking as he finally looks up at Kurt with glistening hazel eyes. But then he begins to cough, clutching his chest, squeezing his eyes shut, his face contorting in pain.

Kurt instantly moves closer but Blaine holds up a hand. "Don't," he chokes, his hand trembling as he weakly pushes Kurt away. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Biting his lip, Kurt steps away, hurt. He clears his throat, "I think I'm going to go for a walk."

Blaine nods, not meeting his gaze.

Swallowing, Kurt steps out of the room to the soundtrack of Blaine's muffled sob, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, he can't get to the front door fast enough. He's suffocating. Kurt forgets his jacket and runs out, slamming the door behind him with a crash. He starts running, breathing in the crisp air.

Finally he stops and collapses onto a curb, burying his head in his arms, fisting away the hot tears that trickle down his chilled cheek, panting heavily.

And there in the quiet street, with the wind whistling through the bare branches and sending them clawing at the grey and darkening skies, Kurt Hummel sits perched on the cool concrete.

And he cries.

* * *

**TBC **

**Well. **

**I'm so sorry. Couldn't help myself. Hugs? **

**The final chapter of this fic should be coming to you soon. It is currently being edited, but otherwise is complete. So you shouldn't have long to wait. **

**What do you think? Please stop by and leave a review! (while keeping in mind I have yet to see the Christmas episode or anything beyond in Glee nor the final 3 episode of Merlin, please, no spoilers) **

**UNTIL NEXT CHAPTER! HAVE A WONDERUL DAY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR! **


	13. Falling A Thousand Feet Per Second

**Hello everyone! **

**This is it. Time for this fic to come to an end. **

**The song I use in this chapter is **_**Perfect**_** by Hedley, the song that inspired the title. If you haven't listened to it before, I suggest you don't, because it will spoil it for you. For those who have already heard it, I promise it doesn't spoil too much. If you'd like go ahead and load it now, just add **/watch?v=0SbFeMrH1Zk** to the end of your youtube URL!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, the Sadie Hawkins episode would seem a lot less cheerful.  
**

**Now here we go...**

* * *

The chilled air is sharp against his skin. Kurt's fingers grow numb, as do the tips of his ears. He rubs his hands together, trying to create some warmth. It doesn't work. He begins to regret forgetting a jacket, but then he thinks about where his jacket is and who sits near it, and he remains seated.

How did it come to this?

Well, the entire confrontation was inevitable. From the beginning. There had to be questions questioned, statements stated, and emotions exposed.

But it wasn't supposed to hurt so much.

Kurt works through every idea, examining every perspective. He tries to come to a decision, to form a coherent thought, but his subconscious keeps arguing.

_Side A: Blaine should have said something._

Side B: But I wasn't listening.

_Side A: But he should have told me it was important._

Side B: But I should have known he was hurt.

_Side A: But he still should have said something, how was I supposed to know._

Side B: But I still should have cared to find out. He was alone.

_Side A: So was I._

Side B: Not in the same way.

_Side A: We're as alone as we want ourselves to be._

Side B: That's hardly fair.

_Side A: Or is it? Maybe _

Kurt groans in frustration and buries his head back in his arms. He blocks out the warring thoughts and just focuses on the silence all around him. This story really has known every kind of silence hasn't it? The one that Blaine heard, and then returned. The one after a kiss and before a fight. The one painted by rapid exhales, running feet, and squeezed hands. The one in a flickering darkness and a hushed moment. The one that is comfortable and the one that is cold. Silences that need words or music or laughter but received nothing. Silences that enjoyed being broken and some that smothered every whisper. Every kind of damn silence.

And here in frigid streets Kurt sits, enjoying one while plotting to destroy another.

Then in a tremendously fleeting but undoubtedly inspiring epiphany, a thought blossoms:

_Side C:_ Maybe we were both wrong. Maybe we should just forgive. Maybe we should just learn and move on. Maybe dwelling on the pain and hurt is belittling the joy we shared and might still share. Maybe.

So ridiculously simple and yet remarkably brilliant.

Kurt shivers and blows air into his hands. The afternoon sun is masked by darkening clouds and Kurt exhales, watching his breath, collecting his thoughts. He rises to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and taking another deep breath, feeling the freezing air inflate his lungs. Then he exhales, the simple action pathetically complicated. But he can still do it. The little wisps of frozen air still curl and then flutter away into the pale landscape.

God, if this was a painting, it would be so horrifically dull.

He takes a step, and then another. A careful, nervous, hesitant step forward.

And then another.

And then another.

Kurt doesn't realize he's running until the world blurs around him.

And it doesn't matter that his eyes are watering from the frigid breeze or that his frozen fingers ache numbly or that the frigid tear tracks on his cheeks sting sharply. He just runs, listening to the crunch of his rapid steps on the empty road. Kurt keeps running forward, blind to everything else except his destination.

Running forward, but actually backward.

Running back to flirty duets and warm cups of coffee. Back to random eruptions of song and red ink scratched onto a notebook page. Back to little speeches and momentous kisses. Back to a standing ovation and a roaring applause. Back to long glances and daring smoulders. Back to lonely tears and warm touches. Back to yellow and red roses and first times. Back to empty stages and tight hugs. Back to sparkling hazel eyes and wide smiles.

Running back to the start.

The front door can't come soon enough, but when it does, Kurt rips it open and bursts inside, eyes wide and frantic, panting heavily.

Then there are impossibly warm arms holding him, rubbing warmth back into his shivering body. Kurt closes his eyes, relishing in the familiar feel of Blaine's against him before slowly raising his arms and wrapping them around him, squeezing him a little too tightly.

"How could you forget a jacket," Blaine scolds softly, his voice cracking. "You could've gotten sick."

"I'm fine, I'm here, I'm fine," Kurt breathes.

After a minute, Blaine pulls away, looking hesitantly at his feet. "I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" he stammers. When he looks back up, Kurt's heart squeezes at his red rimmed and swollen eyes.

"You've been crying," Kurt whispers.

Blaine replies quietly, "So have you."

They stand awkwardly for a minute.

"Look, Blaine-"

"Wait, before you say anything. Can you please listen for a second? I've…um… I've prepared something small. Please. Kurt."

Kurt nods hesitantly, stepping behind Blaine, who slides into the piano bench. After a second, Kurt slips in beside him, but the distance between them is devastatingly tangible.

Blaine's voice is accompanied by clear piano notes as he sings. Words are soft and careful. But his voice is beautiful, despite its wavering and cracking. He sings as though treading on glass, like he, and everything he shared with Kurt, could shatter at any instant. And it could. A wavering voice grew in confidence and strength towards the end, and Kurt, with his arms wrapped defensively around himself, couldn't help but inch closer.

_Falling a thousand feet per second, you still take me by surprise_

_I just know we can't be over, I can see it in your eyes_

_Making every kind of silence, takes a lot to realize_

_It's worse to finish than to start all over and never let it lie_

_And as long as I can feel you holding on_

_I won't fall, even if you said I was wrong_

_I'm not perfect, but I keep trying_

_'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start_

_I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave_

_Was it something I said or just my personality?_

_Making every kind of silence, it takes a lot to realize_

_It's worse to finish than to start all over and never let it lie_

_And as long as I can feel you holding on_

_I won't fall, even if you said I wrong_

_I know that I'm not perfect, but I keep trying_

_'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start_

_I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave_

_Was it something I said or just my personality?_

_When you're caught in a lie and you've got nothing to hide_

_When you've got nowhere to run and you've got nothing inside_

_It tears right through me, you thought that you knew me_

_You thought that you knew_

_I'm not perfect, but I keep trying_

_'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start_

_I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave_

_Was it something I said or just my personality?_

_I'm not perfect, but I keep trying_

_'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start_

_I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave_

_Was it something I said or just my, just myself_

_Just myself, myself, just myself_

_I'm not perfect, but I keep trying_

The song ends and they both sit in soft silence. Blaine vaguely breathless and Kurt vaguely speechless.

The air rattles in Kurt's throat as he exhales. Slowly, he unwraps his arms and slides onto the piano bench. Blaine struggles to keep his breaths steady and clasps his hands in his lap, trying to hide how they shook. But Kurt sees.

Lightly, Kurt turns Blaine's chin so that hazel eyes can look into his own. "Don't you remember?" Kurt whispers, "You're perfect to me."

Blaine chokes out a laugh, glancing up at the ceiling to keep the tears in. "Kurt," Blaine begins carefully, voice cracking. The name sounds so much more beautiful on his tongue, spoken reverently and softly. He looks back down at the keys intently, trying to compose himself and find the right words. The keys seem exceedingly white in the fading light of the room. So elegantly simple. They reflect the light above shyly, and he can see a thin layer of dust stretched upon them, disturbed by his playing fingers. He strokes a key gently, watching as the dust is rearranged. He clears his throat, "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I should have made you listen. But believe me, I trust you. I never meant to lie to you, or to hurt you. I just- I was just lost and alone and…and I was so, so stupid-"

"Wait, no. No, you're not stupid, Blaine. This isn't your fault. I should have listened. Hell, it was my _job_ to listen to you. But I got so caught up with the new world around me that I forgot to look back." Kurt turns and grabs Blaine's hand gently, staring into his swimming hazel eyes. "You are so important to me Blaine. You are one of the most important things in my life. I would give up New York for you. You _are_my dream. Not some concrete city with shining lights and excellent clothing choices. It would be nothing if I didn't get to spend my dream with you."

"Really?" Blaine says in a small voice.

Kurt nods, "Really. And I'm so, so sorry that I made you doubt my love for you for even a second. I just don't want to lose you. I almost did. And while I sat there waiting in that awful hospital I just couldn't bear the thought and I- I can't do that again. I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Blaine chokes, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Moving closer, Kurt brushes the tear away softly, "Hey, hey. Please don't cry. You'll make me cry, and you know what horrors that does for my complexion."

Blaine laughs. "I love you so much," he murmurs.

Kurt presses their foreheads together and whispers, "I love you too."

Carefully, Blaine tilts his head and captures Kurt's lips in a kiss. Kurt kisses him back eagerly, tasting Blaine's salty lips and losing himself in his touch. He pulls him in closer and gently runs his fingers through his dark curls. Blaine pulls away breathlessly, but Kurt only holds him tighter against his chest, rubbing his hands in small circles along his back, feeling Blaine's firm muscles beneath his thin t-shirt. Blaine buries his face into Kurt's shoulder, and they cling to each other for what seems like hours, perfectly okay with never letting go.

* * *

The night before Kurt has to fly back to New York, he holds Blaine tightly in his arms, caressing his face softly. Blaine doesn't want to fall asleep, just in order to be able to spend more time with Kurt. But the medication eventually pulls him under. Kurt cradles him as he falls asleep, kissing his curls gently.

The rain strikes the window, like the gentle patter of pebbles and branches tap the pane impatiently. But Kurt only focuses on Blaine's deep breathing. He watches Blaine sleep for a while, tracing his already memorized features. Finally, he lets the rumbling purr of the thunder lull him to sleep, cuddling closer to Blaine whenever the thunder decides to clap too loudly.

* * *

Blaine isn't able to go to the airport. He argues and protests but Kurt just gathers the struggling boy in his arms. They tell themselves not to cry, but their eyes sting. Kurt pulls Blaine in tighter, untilBlaine is on the very tips of his toes, and Blaine, ignoring his aching ribs, burrows himself closer to Kurt. They stay like this, as long as they can, Blaine clinging to Kurt. When he finally has to pull away, he swallows. Clenching his jaw and looking up, trying not to cry. Kurt smiles and tilts Blaine's chin towards him and kisses him chastely on the lips, and then on the forehead. There are thousands of things that need to be said, but no words are uttered.

The first snow of the season lies delicately on the ground. It crunches underneath their feet as Blaine walks Kurt to the car, little drops of ice making the snow sparkle in the sunlight. The world is so bright; the sky a white blank page, the trembling branches of the trees standing proud and dark against it. Snow flutters down like little bits of cotton, flakes falling on them and melting in their hair.

Kurt eventually has to leave, pressing his face into the window to hold Blaine in his sight for as long as possible. But he soon slips out of view and Kurt exhales, holding in his tears and focusing his attention back on his father.

Blaine stares at the empty road long after Kurt disappears, the snow falling gently around him.

* * *

Days turn into weeks. And weeks turn into months. Time melts together in the endless swirl of everything. Life goes on. Skype dates are attended and cancelled. Phone calls seep long into the night and others are cut short. Loneliness creeps in and yearning settles. The two emotions are always there. Naturally. They cannot be held at bay, nor can they be vanquished. They're there, but they're never allowed to take control.

Every night Kurt collapses onto his bed. Every night he closes his eyes for a fleeting second, because the days in New York are usually long and busy. Every night, no matter how exhausted, no matter what time, Kurt grabs his cell phone and texts a quick message before falling asleep.

And every night, miles away, Blaine curls into his blankets. Every night he feels his phone vibrate and most nights he reads the message. But, some nights, he just remains nestled in his pillows and only acknowledges the vibration with a smile. Because he already knows what the message says**:**

_"I love you."_

**THE END**

* * *

**(A/N)**

**Well, there we go. I can't thank you all enough for reading, reviewing, and supporting. Just everything. Every single review makes me sing and dance, and watching those numbers go up just takes my breath away. Honestly, from the very depth of my heart, you all have my sincerest gratitude.**

**A lot of people ask me why I care so much. Why I write such ridiculously long authors notes. Why I try to reply to every review. It's because, personally, I feel that any form of art is meant to be shared. Every painting, every song, every piece of writing. Art is a form of expression, it's a way of sharing ideas and passion. And I couldn't share my tiny, insignificant contribution to the infinite realm of art if no one was willing to listen (or in this case read). So thank you. **

**Also, I'd like to take a moment to thank Ishy (ayearafterklaineocurred on fanfiction, darrentweededafan on tumblr) who was my beta for most of this story. She's helped my writing advance by leaps and bounds and I can't thank her enough. Also, to tumblr user jensenakles who helped beta this last chapter because I wanted an objective opinion. Now, as much as I'd like to thank every single one of you, I haven't the time, so yeah, I LOVE YOU ALL OH MY GOSH I CAN'T THE ADORATION IN MY HEART IS OVERWHEMING. But a special little shout out to Writing Memories who not only drew an adorable fanart for this fic, but also wrote a beautiful song. **

**I actually hate endings. A lot (still not over the Merlin finale). I'm a lot like the Doctor in the aspect. So once more, I cannot thank you all enough. I hope I've managed to entertain you and provide you with a story worth the time it took reading it. And I do honestly hope that you've enjoyed reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please tell me your final thoughts, and if there was anything you want to know more about or elaborate, just let me know! Please do take a moment to review and if you ever need to fangirl, you can always PM me or you can find me at tumblr as aslytherinindistrict12. **

**Thank you all so very much and hugs to all!**

* * *

**Here are the lyrics to Writing Memories song if you'd like to read them. In all honestly, they are truly lovely: **

"**Surrender"**

_**Take a deep breath, sweetheart**_

_**Take it slow and keep your eyes open, wide open**_

_**With every step, with every breath, with me we will get through this darkness.**_

_**Let's run, run, run.**_

_**Hold my hand and keep safe, safe, safe**_

_**They're not going to tear us apart**_

_**And you and I will make it through this storm**_

_**Because it's you and me.**_

_**Do you think I would let you go, oh, no ,no.**_

_**Keep your eyes open, hold my hand and smile for me because honey we aren't surrendering tonight.**_

_**I'll only surrender if we have to.**_

_**Let's run, run, run.**_

_**Hold my hand and keep safe, safe, safe**_

_**They're not going to tear us apart**_

_**And you and I will make it through this storm**_

_**Because it's you and me.**_

_**They never knew how strong our love could be**_

_**They never knew how much we could save each other and now...**_

_**Let's run, run, run.**_

_**Hold my hand and keep safe, safe, safe**_

_**They're not going to tear us apart**_

_**And you and I will make it through this storm**_

_**Because it's you and me.**_

_**You and I were meant to save each other**_

_**Fight for each other and to love each other until,**_

_**We never surrender this love.**_

_**Oh, we never surrender this love.**_

_**Surrender this love.**_


End file.
